I Always Wanted a Brother
by JayEllGee
Summary: Drew was lucky. He was one of the few people that actually liked their step-sisters. But when Gracie starts becoming more distant, Drew starts to investigate. What he finds will change his relationship with his sibling, and their lives. Forever.
1. Regarding Marc

Chapter 1 – Regarding Marc

"So… do you think Gracie would go for me?"

"What? No, that's sick in the head dude, she's my sister!"

It was lunchtime. Drew Torres was in the canteen sitting across from his best friend Marc. Marc had just asked Drew the most disturbing question a 15-year-old can hear about his kid sister. Marc seemed perplexed by the negative response he was given.

"C'mon Drew, guy-code doesn't apply to step-siblings. Everyone knows that."

"Well most guys don't actually _like _their step-sisters, I say the rules still apply."

Marc leaned in closer, coming dangerously close to crushing the cheese fries on the table between them.

"What's she into? I can name 2-and-a-half Justin Bieber songs if that helps. Chicks dig that sort of stuff."

Drew couldn't help but laugh.

"Not Gracie." He said, smirking, "stick to talking about video games – especially FPS's – wrestling, bass guitar, and if you want to make a mix-tape, I'd suggest Dead Hand over the Biebs."

The cheese fries were now attached to Marc's shirt. Possibly forever. There was no way he could lean in any closer.

"No way dude. Your sister's either a hard-core lesbian or the best girlfriend material ever! Guy rules don't apply when the chick likes video games and Dead Hand."

Drew went back to eating his hamburger, but Marc's words bothered him. _" Your sister's either a hard-core lesbian or the best girlfriend material ever."_

The hard-core girlfriend material part wasn't a problem. Gracie was a Torres for crying out loud, there was no question that she would rock as a girlfriend, it was step-genetics. It was the other part. The _lesbian_ part. It had crossed Drew's mind before, but never in a serious way. But if someone else was thinking it too, there must have been more to it.

Right?

"Why the hell do I have cheese fries on my shirt?"

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oOo

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Drew didn't see Gracie until mom picked them up from school that afternoon, and he didn't even get a chance to talk to her alone until they had to wash up after dinner. It had never occurred to him that she might seriously be gay. It would make sense, she had never shown interest in guys, at least to Drew's knowledge, and if mom didn't force her into dresses she would probably live in Drew's old clothes quite happily.

Of course, that didn't really mean anything. She could very well like guys. Guys like Marc. And if that was the case, she could go on a date with Marc, and he could take her to a movie. And hold her hand. And kiss her. And tell Drew's innocent 14-year-old little sister that if she really loved Marc that they could-

"Gracie, do you like girls?"

She dropped the plate she was holding back into the soapy water, causing an explosion of suds to spray over the two of them.

"Because if you are that would be fine." Drew added, earnestly, "Preferable even. Because you really shouldn't go the movies with Marc; he's an idiot."

Gracie was trying to shake the bubbles out of her ponytail. It was a long time before she replied.

"What are you even talking about? I never… the movies with Marc?"

Drew used his sleeve to wipe soap off his nose and took the clean plate Gracie dropped to dry.

"Marc from the football team wants to ask you out and he was asking what you're into and… well… everything you like is guy stuff, and you've never been on a date with anyone, and… I was just wondering."

Gracie's face turned red as she tried to string together a coherent sentence.

"I… my… I like… Look – I'm straight Andrew." She said, bitingly, "the gender I'm attracted to is the opposite to the one I am."

"I know what straight means." Drew replied, irritated, "ok, I'm sorry for even bringing it up. Just forget it."

"Ok."

There was silence for a long time. Drew knew his sister well enough to know when she was telling the truth, and she was being completely honest when she said that she was straight. But even though she wasn't lying, it still didn't seem like what she was saying was _right. _The idea of Gracie being in a relationship with a guy – any guy – seemed wrong. Maybe it was a protective big brother thing, maybe. He had to break the silence.

"So… Xbox?"

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oOo

.

Drew had decided that that first thing he was going to do when he got to school the next day was to tell Marc that Gracie wasn't interested. It was partially true. She hadn't shown any interest in Marc, but that because Drew never asked her if she would be interested in the first place. He had to just find Marc and tell him to move on.

But Marc found Gracie first.

Drew wasn't sure why but seeing them there, him leaning against the lockers while Gracie fixed her ponytail in her locker mirror, sent his stomach sinking somewhere near his ankles. Something about the whole thing seemed wrong. Drew walked to the end of the hall to hear what they were saying.

"- and that's why "One Time" is my favorite Justin song." Said Marc, proudly, "you kind of look like the girl in the video. Only prettier."

Drew couldn't see Gracie's face, but he could tell by the way her head sunk that what Marc was saying made her deeply uncomfortable.

"You don't have to say that." Gracie mumbled.

Marc moved in a little closer.

"It's true. I asked Drew if it would be ok if I asked you out on a date. He seemed cool with it."

Drew wasn't sure what part of "that's sick in the head" made Marc think that he was cool with him getting his grubby hands anywhere near his little sister, but Drew had to admire the tenacity. Marc must have learned that from him.

"He also said that you liked wrestling. You know, I'm on the wrestling team." Said Marc, stretching his arms behind his head, "You should come watch me practice some time. Or I could show you my trophies at my place. You should come over for dinner. Tonight."

Drew could hear Gracie stutter again. It was weird to hear. She usually wiped the floor with anyone who dared challenge her when it came to verbal insults.

"Uh… Marc, you seem cool and all, but, I don't feel that way about you-"

Marc laughed. It wasn't the reaction Drew was expecting.

"Hah. I knew it, you totally play for the other team-"

"What - no, that's not it. It's just… you're my brother's friend."

"He doesn't mind."

"But if something goes wrong and-"

Marc put his hands over her arms.

"Nothing's going to go wrong. I'd just like it if you can over for dinner. That's all. Is 6 ok?"

Drew could see Gracie nodding her head.

"Yeah, 6 is great."

"Great. See you then. It's taco night on Wednesdays."

And with that, Marc walked away. Leaving Drew with a distinct feeling of dread, and as he looked over at his sister, he had the feeling that he wasn't alone.


	2. The Letter and the List

Chapter 2 - The Letter and the List

Drew was bored. This was one of the underreported downsides of your best friend dating your sister. No one to play Mario Kart with. Gracie and Marc had been going out for nearly two months now, and Drew hardly got to spend time with either of them. It wasn't fair, he was the reason they got together in the first place! Well, not really, but he was the one suffering the fate of a third wheel, and it sucked.

The other negative of having your sister hanging out with your best friend all the time was chores. With Gracie AWOL, Drew was solely responsible for the washing the dishes, taking out the trash, and putting away the laundry. The later of which Drew was doing the afternoon he found something strange in Gracie's sock drawer.

Underwear. Drew wasn't freaked out by other people's underwear, he had been doing laundry duty since he was 12 and had long become unfazed by unmentionables. But this was different. This was men's underwear. As in the kind that dudes wear. In Gracie's room. After a fleeting moment of panic, Drew came to his senses. It was probably his or dad's, put in Gracie's drawer by mistake, after all, Drew had lost count of all the times he had opened him drawer to kind a pair of pink socks, or a t-shirt two times too small for him. Drew would just take them out and put them in the right room, he just had to check the size, large would mean they were dad's and medium would mean they were Drew's. Drew checked the label.

They were smalls.

The panic set in again. These were the boxers of a stranger. A small stranger. A small stranger who had access to Drew's little sister's bedroom. Drew tried to figure out how skinny Marc was. But even then, Marc and Gracie had been going out less than two months, Gracie was too smart (and much too young) to be seeing Marc's boxers. And if they were in Gracie's drawer that meant that Marc wasn't wearing them. And if he wasn't wearing them, that meant that he had taken them off. And if he had taken them off in Gracie's bedroom, that meant-

Drew threw Marc's laundry out of the drawer and as far away from him as possible. Something caught his eye. There was something else in Gracie's sock drawer. A book. Drew pulled it out and examined it.

_"The Big Book of Baby Names." By Diana Rutherford_

No. There was a totally logical explanation for all of this. There had to be. Drew flipped the pages of the book nervously as if some sort of clue would jump out at him.

And oddly enough, it did.

Two folded up pieces of paper fell from the book and onto the floor. Drew picked up the nearest and opened it. It was a list.

_Name Ideas_

_Jacob – Hebrew for supplanter (find out what supplanter means) – maybe to twilighty?_

_Michael – Hebrew for who is like god? Good middle name? _ Michael Torres _

_Alex – Greek for man warrior – awesome. Could be confused as girl's name though._

_Adam – Hebrew for man (appropriate) Adam Torres sounds pretty cool – might be too close to Andrew?_

_Danny – Hebrew for God is my judge – I really don't want god being all judgy with me (especially not after this!)_

_Matt – Hebrew for God's gift (well, obviously, this one's perfect!)_

_Elijah – Hebrew for the lord is my God – initials would be E.T…_

_Dylan – Welsh for Sea, but that weird kid from Spanish is called Dylan – he eats erasers… _

_Tyler – English for, uh, Tiler. Could be girl's name. Also – Tyler Torres? Too many T's!_

Drew shook his head. There was some really reasonable explanation for the men's underwear, the baby names book and the list of baby names for someone named "Torres". It would be obvious when someone explained it to Drew, wouldn't it? He'd laugh at how innocent the whole misunderstanding was, right?

Drew could tell himself this. That he was missing something. The he wasn't going to be an Uncle anytime soon.

But there was just one problem; the second piece of paper was still lying, folded up on the floor.

Drew picked it up. He didn't open it for what felt like a really long time. He looked around at the room he was standing in. The walls were pink with a border of pale yellow stars, the bed, too small for a Drew, was Just Right for a Gracie. The bedside table had a lamp with a transparent cover on it that, when it was lit, gave the whole room a warm orange glow. It was a kid's room. For a kid sister. Drew suddenly had the feeling that the room didn't feel right anymore. Not for Gracie.

He unfolded the paper. It was a letter.

A letter for him.

"_Dear Mom, Dad and Drew,_

_I don't know how to tell you this. I wish I had the courage to do it in person. I'm not even sure that I'll have the courage to give you this letter._

_For the longest time, there's been something else inside of me. Another person. _

_I've tried and tried to ignore it, but you can't just wish these things away. This is real._

_I've been looking these things up on the internet and there is help and support. We can go see a doctor together and they can probably give you more answers than a scared kid like me can! But the sooner we get help the better. _

The rest of the page was covered in scribbles. Gracie had obviously changed her mind about writing the letter.

Drew wasn't long how long he stood there, holding the letter in his hands, or what he was even thinking about exactly, but he felt strangely _empty_; like he had lost his sense of touch. He couldn't feel his feet pressing against the floor, or his hands grasping at the piece of paper in his hands. In fact, empty was the wrong word. Drew didn't feel anything at all.

He could hear a voice calling him for dinner, and he felt himself move to put away the rest of Gracie's clothes and to put the things he found back in their hiding place.

And then he did his best to forget everything he saw, until his thoughts were as absent as his feelings.


	3. Do Anything

_Hi there, everyone. First of all, I want to give a HUGE thank you to everybody who left a review – you guys rock!_

_Secondly, I should also probably lay out the timeline, just in case it's not clear (it's a bit confusing to work out people's ages in the Degassi-verse). This story takes place when Drew is in grade 10 and Adam (or Gracie at this point) is in Grade 9. This chapter takes place 2 months after chapter 2 (which takes place almost two months after chapter 1)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, just Marc – and he's an idiot!_

_Enjoy guys!_

.

oOo

'

Chapter 3 – Do Anything

"We'll be back before midnight."

"Ok Mom"

"And we'll check in on you every half hour, if you don't pick up we'll come straight home."

"I get it Mom, we won't cause any trouble!"

Mom and Dad were going to some office party and had decided to leave Drew in charge. He was being read The Riot Act as his parents made their way out the house.

"And if you _do _have any problems, my cell's on speed dial. Be good you two."

And with that, Mom kissed both Drew and Gracie on the cheek and ran out the door with Dad, leaving only her Mom Spit in her wake. Drew wiped his face and made a beeline to the fridge. Gracie stood in the hallway, holding her arm and staring at the door, as if expecting Mom and Dad to suddenly burst back through again.

It wasn't until Drew returned, with half the kitchen contents in his arms, that Gracie turned to the direction of the stairs. Drew shuffled towards her, careful not to drop any of his snacks.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?" He asked. "We have a Rock Band marathon to begin. You can't call it 'Drum-Bro and Bass-Sis' when there's no bass."

Gracie didn't turn around. She and Marc called it quits a month after the 'Underwear Incident'. Drew never brought up what he found to anyone, but when he asked Marc why he and Gracie broke up, Marc insisted it was because Gracie didn't want to 'do anything' - whatever that meant. Drew wasn't sure whether to believe Marc or not, especially after what he found in Gracie's room, but he choose to believe that it was true and put his worrying mind at rest. It was better than the alternative – that Marc and Gracie _had_ done something and now Gracie was-

"No thanks." She said, placing her hand on the banister. "I think I'll just go to my room."

And she did. Drew could understand if she was maybe a little upset about her and Marc, but it had been well over a month since the break up and Gracie still seemed sad. She was quiet, forlorn, and she only left her room for school and meals. Even the way she dressed was depressing. It was the hottest March for 20 years and Gracie was skulking around in increasingly baggier hoodies.

Drew put his food on the coffee table and began to set up his drums. Just because Gracie was being miserable didn't mean he couldn't have any fun. He would have an epic Rock Band Solo Marathon, and play the songs that had the best Drum parts without have to worry about having to add in "Give it Away" just so Gracie could do the bass solo. It was totally fine if Gracie suddenly decided that she didn't want to do anything.

Wait.

_Do anything_. That's what Marc said. Of course, when Drew said Gracie didn't want to do anything, he meant do _anything. _He had just assumed that Marc meant, well, _do _anything. But what if Marc meant do _anything _too?

Did that mean he and Gracie had done… something? And if they had done something, then that meant that Drew's concerns weren't so ridiculous after all. And with the underwear, the baby names book, the list, the letter and now Gracie's baggy clothes and mood swings; that could only mean-

Drew abandoned the drums and ran up the stairs, he didn't even knock Gracie's door when he got to it, he just kicked it open. Gracie was sitting her desk and jumped 10 feet in the air as Drew stormed in.

"Drew!" She shouted, "What do you think you're doing?" She threw whatever she was holding onto the desk, grabbed the hoodie, which she had taken off and thrown over the back of the desk chair at some point, and quickly pulled it back on.

"No, what do you think _you're_ doing." Drew shouted back. He hadn't planned what he was going to say. It was as if a switch in his brain was flicked from 'dormant' to 'erupt', and he had to let out everything that had been on his mind for the last few months.

"I know what's going on with you, you know." He said, causing Gracie's face to turn red from anger, to white with alarm, "I know about the guys underwear, and the names and the letter. I know why you're dressing like that – what you're trying to hide."

He had expected Gracie to shout back at him, for going through her stuff, for throwing accusations at her, for barging into her room unannounced. But she didn't shout, or argue, or say anything at all.

She started to cry.

Drew didn't now what he was supposed to do. Gracie _never_ cried. And the rare times that she did, it killed Drew. It was the eyes that did it, she had freakin' huge eyes that were only magnified when they filled with tears. As she stood there, with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, tears falling down her stupid gigantic eyes, Drew walked over to her, his anger replaced with guilt.

"I'm sorry, please don't cry, please don't. I can't handle crying." He said quickly, hoping that an apology would make Gracie stop. He really wished that she was mad at him instead. Hell she could have thrown whatever is it she was holding at Drew when he came through the door and it would have been better than this. Even if she was holding a dagger or a ninja star or-

"A lighter?" Drew said, as he looked over at the desk to see what Grace had been dropped, "You're smoking? Seriously?" The anger had being to rise again as Drew grabbed the evidence before Gracie could. "I'm not kidding, you should _not_ be smoking Grace. Especially not in your… condition."

Gracie wiped her face with her sleeve. She looked utterly bewildered.

"My _condition_?"

Drew sighed.

"Gracie, I know you're pregnant. And I can't imagine how scared you must be right now, but I'm here for you and… you're shaking your head, why are you shaking your head?"

Gracie stood there, slowly shaking her head and staring at Drew as if he had "insane" tattooed to his forehead.

"You're an idiot."

Drew may not have planned what he was going to say to Gracie, but nothing in his head could figure out what Gracie was trying to get at.

"You're pregnant."

"No?" She said slowly, cocking her head to one side.

"But… you and Marc-"

"-Broke up because I didn't want to do anything with him."

Oh. Marc really had meant _do_ anything. Drew made a mental note to punch Marc when he next saw him.

"So," Drew said slowly, as he tried to process what he had just found out, "There isn't _literally _another person inside of you?"

Gracie answered hesitantly.

"Well, not a baby, anyway. I can't believe you'd think that."

Drew laughed in relief. He knew he shouldn't have taken the letter literally. It wasn't a pregnancy confession.

Then Drew stopped laughing. If it wasn't a pregnancy confession, what kind of confession was it? In her letter Gracie talked about being scared, and needing to see a doctor - that isn't just melodramatic teenage girl stuff. He had to ask her now, while he had the chance.

"So what _is_ wrong with you?" Drew asked. Ok, so maybe not the most tactful strategy in the world, but he had gotten it out in the open.

Gracie tried to brush it aside.

"Oh nothing, just stupid girl stuff. Forget about it, it's dumb."

But she was lying, Drew could always tell when Gracie was lying.

"When I told you that I knew what was going on, you looked _terrified."_ Drew said, standing directly in front of his sister, determined not to let her avoid his questions._ "_You started crying, you never cry. What's going on, Gracie?"

Gracie folded her arms tightly, pursing her lips, she tried to push past Drew and to the door.

"Don't call me that." She said, her voice shaking as she attempted to walk away.

"Gracie, please." Drew said, as he grabbed her arm.

She flinched in pain. He didn't grab her hard enough to cause that. Something else hurt her.

He tried to remember the last time he saw Gracie in a t-shirt, or a tank top.

"Show me your arms." He said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Gracie, show me your arms!"

Gracie stopped resisting and straightened her arm out, her eyes closed. Drew lifted up her baggy sleeve. Her arm was covered in small red rectangular scars and blisters. As if someone had put a hot poker to her skin. Some of them were so new that they were still warm. Suddenly the lighter made sense. Drew felt his throat get tight. He tried to swallow the strangled feeling down, but his choked-up voice gave him away.

"Why would you do this to your self?" He asked. Gracie wouldn't look him in the eye. She started crying again.

"I have to let the anger out." She whispered so quietly that Drew almost couldn't hear her.

"Why, what anger?" Drew said, gently holding Gracie's arm, "Gracie, please talk to me."

Gracie's face contorted though her tears.

"I hate it Drew, I hate being like this. I look in the mirror and I want to die."

"Gracie there's nothing wrong with you." Drew said, kneeling to his little sister's level so that she had to look at him. "You're a normal, pretty teenage girl."

"I don't want to be a girl!" Gracie yelled, "I'm not a girl, I'm a boy!"

Drew stood up slowly, Gracie's eyes following his all the way.

"I'm a boy, Drew."

And for a very long time, Drew didn't reply.

He didn't do _anything_.


	4. The Adventures of Cap'n Gary & Mr Koala

_Yay, a break from SADam, now it's time for some GLADam!_

_Because chapter 3 ended on something of a cliffhanger, I decided to be nice and put up chapter 4 early :D_

_Also, big props to Degrassi Wiki for getting me the right DOBs and determining who's whose biological parent in the Torres family (according to the internets, Mrs. Torres - whose first name is apparently Audra - is Adam's Mom and Drew's Step mom so that's how it will be in the story.)_

_So what's the most evil way to follow up a cliffhanger? Why, a flashback of course!_

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oOo

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Chapter 4 – The Adventures of Cap'n Gary and Mr. Koala.

**June 1999**

Drew was being as brave, like Daddy told him to be. Mommy and Geoff were putting their suitcases in the cab. Mommy told Drew that she was going to go to Australia where Geoff was from. Mommy had showed him a book all about it. In Australia there were lots of funny animals, like Kangaroos, which were like giant rabbits, only they stood up and had pockets. There were other animals too like dingoes, which were like dogs only not very nice (Drew didn't like the dingoes, Daddy said that they steal babies), and there were koalas too, which were little bears (but not really bears) that lived in trees. Drew liked the koalas the best; they had pockets too, and Mommy koalas used them to carry their babies. Mommy koalas never leave their babies alone when they're little; Drew thought that's why he liked them so much.

His own Mommy was leaving him to go live with Geoff. Drew didn't like Geoff; he talked funny and smoked, which is bad for you and made Drew feel sick from the bad smell. And now Geoff was taking Mommy away, and Drew wasn't allowed to go. Drew was staying home in Canada where there were no koalas and, very soon, no more Mommy.

Geoff put the last case in the taxi and shook Daddy's hand before going into the cab. Mommy gave Daddy a hug, but only a little one, and then went over to Drew.

"Geoff and I are going to go to the airport now sweetheart." She said, getting down on one knee to Drew's height. "And you're going to keep your Dad company, right?"

Drew nodded, he wouldn't let Mommy down.

"And you're going to meet Daddy's new lady friend today, aren't you?" She said, holding both of Drew's hands. "And she has a little girl that you can play with. I think she's around your age too."

Drew stuck out his tongue

"I'm, not playing with a _girl_, girl's are gross."

Mommy smiled and ruffled Drew's hair. She gave Drew the present bag that she had been holding behind her back.

"Well, just in case you and Audra's daughter don't want to play together, I've got something very special to take care of you."

Drew pulled away the tissue to reveal something grey and furry, he pulled it out.

"It's a koala!" He screamed, jumping up and down, holding his new toy.

"Just like in your picture book," Mommy said getting to her feet. "And now whenever you miss me you can give your koala a hug and I'll feel it all the way in Australia, and I'll know to hug you back."

Drew squeezed his koala tightly; he had to be brave – for Mommy.

"But I'm here right now if you want a hug from me, Drew." Mommy said, opening her arms out.

Drew ran to Mommy and she wrapped her arms around him. Drew wanted to cry, but didn't want Mommy to think he wasn't brave, so he buried his face into the koala's fur, hiding his tears.

"I love you, Drew."

"I love you too, Mommy."

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oOo

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Drew didn't want to say out loud, but he was scared of meeting Daddy's new friend. Mommy said that Audra might be his Stepmother one day. Drew didn't like that. All the Stepmother's in his stories were mean and scary. As he sat in the car, clutching Mr. Koala in his arms, he imagined an ugly lady who made him do chores all day and never let him eat cookies. What if she made him live in the basement, or in the backyard? What if she took Mr. Koala away?

"We're here." Daddy said, stopping the car. "You ready, Champ?"

Drew nodded and took off his seatbelt. Audra's house looked just like a normal house - that was a good sign that she wasn't evil, but Drew decided to keep close to Daddy - just in case.

Daddy knocked on the door and then looked down at Drew.

"You're going to really like Audra," Daddy said, smiling. "I promise."

A lady opened the door. She was pretty with dark hair like Mommy. She was smiling too, which made Drew smile.

"Hello there, you must be Drew." She said in a nice voice. "My name is Audra. Come on in, there's cookies in the kitchen. Gracie and I baked them just for you."

Drew and Mr. Koala ran toward the smell of the cookies and found the kitchen. The cookies were on a counter top, and sitting on a stool beside them was a pirate.

"Ahar, me maties." Said the pirate, "What be you doing on my ship?"

Drew didn't know how he was supposed to talk to a pirate. He decided just to talk like normal.

"Audra said there were cookies in here for me."

The pirate took off his eye patch and took a good look at Drew.

"I'm Cap'n Gary. What's you're name?"

"I'm Drew, and this is Mr. Koala."

Cap'n Gary climbed off his stool. Drew could now see that the pirate was a lot smaller than him, and really just a little kid in a pirate costume.

"Do you want to play in the living room?" Cap'n Gary asked, "My Mom and I made a pirate ship out of boxes in there."

"Can we take some cookies with us?"

Cap'n Gary thought about this for a second.

"Um… Aye." He said, before adding in a whisper "that's pirate for 'yes'."

Drew, Mr. Koala, and Cap'n Gary took their cookies and made their way through to the living room where Daddy was sitting with Audra.

"You found the cookies I see," said Audra getting off the couch and picking up Cap'n Gary, "and I also see you met my daughter, Gracie."

Drew almost (but not quite) dropped his cookie from shock. Cap'n Gary was a _girl_? He didn't look much like a girl. For starters, he was a pirate and everyone knew that pirates are boys. Secondly, girls had long hair, and Cap'n Gary's was almost as short as Drew's.

Audra took Cap'n Gary – Gracie - over to Daddy.

"You remember Mr. Torres?" Audra asked.

"Hi Mr. Torres." Said Gracie in a non-pirate voice. "Me and Drew are gonna play in the pirate ship, do you wanna play too?"

"I'd love to Gracie." Daddy said before turning to his son, "wouldn't that be fun, Drew?"

Drew looked at Mr. Koala, who didn't say anything, and decided for both of them that maybe playing with a girl wouldn't be so bad after all.

.

oOo

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**November 1999**

"We're heading west, me hearties! Climb the riggin' and see if you can spy any booty!"

Drew, Mr. Koala and Cap'n Gary were travelling on the Sea of Carpet, hunting for the long lost treasure of Vancouver. Cap'n Gary had made Drew first mate, which meant that he got to use the telescope whilst Mr. Koala, the cabin boy, had to swab the deck, which meant that he had to keep the boat clean.

"Cap'n, I think I can see the treasure up ahead by Kitchen Cove," said first mate Drew as he peered through his paper towel tube "but it looks like there's a giant guarding it."

Cap'n Gary frantically turned his pizza box steering wheel to the direction of Kitchen Cove.

"Do you have a weapon, lad?" The captain asked.

First mate Drew grabbed Mr. Koala's mop (which was really a feather duster). It was now a sword. Cap'n Gary grabbed his own sword (a pool noodle) and they both jumped off the ship, leaving Mr. Koala the cabin boy behind to guard the ship.

First mate Drew ran ahead of Cap'n Gary, into the heart of Kitchen Cove. The giant hadn't seen them yet. Drew waited for the giant to put the treasure down on the kitchen countertop before striking. He aimed for the giant's knees, tickling her until she surrendered.

"Ok, ok I give in!" said the giant, raising her hands up. "You can have my treasure. Do you want pepperoni or mushroom?"

"I'll take pepperoni, ye murderous giant!" said Cap'n Gary, climbing onto a stool.

"Me too" said first mate Drew, joining his captain.

The giant cut up the treasure and gave both the pirates a slice.

"Mom, Drew's piece is bigger than mine's" Cap'n Gary said.

"Well that's because Drew's bigger than you, honey." Said the giant, taking a piece of mushroom as her own.

"Plus, I'm the one who vanquished the giant." Drew added.

Cap'n Gary, taking of his hat and eye patch and becoming Gracie again, took a deep sigh, but ate her pizza anyway.

Drew heard the front door open and close, followed by Daddy's voice.

"Do I smell pizza?"

Daddy came though to the kitchen, kissing Audra, Drew and Gracie each on the cheek before sitting down and taking his own slice of mushroom pizza.

"Good day?" Audra asked before pouring herself a glass of orange juice.

"Oh, same-old, same-old," said Daddy, "But it's much better now that I'm with you guys."

Daddy mussed Drew's hair. Drew liked it here. He had his own room, his own place in the hallway for his shoes, and Gracie even helped him make a bed for Mr. Koala out of a piece of Cap'n Gary's pirate ship.

That's why Drew said yes when Daddy asked him if they wanted to move in with Gracie and Audra. They had been living in the house for two weeks and Drew wished that he could stay there forever.

Daddy put down his pizza and took Audra's hand.

"Drew, Gracie." Daddy said, "We've both been talking and, well, how would you like it if… if-"

"-If we got married." Audra finished with a big smile on her face.

"Does that mean we'd get to be brother and sister?" Drew asked.

"Well, I suppose it does." Daddy said, "So what do you say, buddy?"

Drew and Gracie both looked at each other excitedly and together both screamed

"Yes!"

Daddy and Audra laughed.

"Well it's settled then," Audra said, putting her hand on Daddy's chest, "we're going to be one big happy family."

.

oOo

.

**May 2000**

"Gracie, don't be silly."

"No, I don't want to!"

"Honey, it's only a dress. Think how pretty you'll look at Mommy's wedding."

"I don't want to wear a dress. Dresses are for girls!"

Drew heard the patio door slam shut and Audra groaning. He picked up Mr. Koala and followed Gracie outside into the backyard. She was lying in the tire swing, pulling out the grass. She didn't look happy at all.

Drew went up to his sister.

"Gracie, what's the matter?" He asked.

"Mom wants me to wear a stupid dress to the wedding. I keep telling her, I don't like dresses!"

Drew sat down cross-legged with Mr. Koala resting in his lap.

"I think you'd look pretty in a dress."

"I don't want to look pretty," Gracie said, "first Mom makes me grow my hair, and now she wants me to put on a girl's dress."

Gracie pulled up a fistful of grass and threw it away, huffily.

"Can you keep a secret?" Gracie asked, pulling herself closer to Drew.

Drew nodded

"Sure, what is it?"

"You have to promise not to tell."

"I promise." Drew insisted.

"Swear on Mr. Koala's life?" Gracie said, pointing to the cabin boy.

Drew tightened his grip on Mr Koala

"I swear," he said, "so what's the secret?"

Gracie moved in even closer and whispered into Drew's ear.

"I'm not really a girl."

Drew laughed, "don't be silly, of course you're a girl."

"No I'm not. Girls have long hair and wear dresses and play with dolls. I don't do any of those things."

Drew thought about it. It _was_ a good point. Gracie wasn't like any other girls that he knew, she could play real games and climb trees even higher than Drew could. Plus she was a really good pirate captain – and everyone knows that girls don't make good pirates.

"I guess you're right." Drew said, "So if you're not a real girl, does that mean that you're a boy."

"Yeah. But Mom doesn't want me to be one. She wants to be a girl." Gracie said sadly.

"Well, you can be a boy with me if you want to," said Drew, standing up and brushing the dirt off his knees, "I don't mind."

Gracie wriggled out of the tyre swing and stood up too.

"Does that mean we're going to be brothers?" Gracie asked.

Drew smiled. Brothers. He liked that. Brothers stick up for each other. They join in on each other's games, and they take turns to win at fighting. Yeah, brothers, Drew liked it.

"Sure, Brothers. We'll be brothers forever!"

Drew high-fived his brother and they headed back into the house

"I like it when you're not a girl."

"_I don't want to be a girl! I'm not a girl, I'm a boy…I'm a boy, Drew."  
><em>

Drew was still standing in Gracie's room. She hadn't stopped looking at him since she said those words. Drew was suddenly aware that he was doing the same thing to Gracie. Drew could usually never hold his gaze with someone for too long without laughing, he sucked at stating contests, but there was nothing funny about this. His sister had been burning herself. She just told him that she was a boy.

And Drew didn't know what to do.

Gracie stood. Waiting for Drew to respond.

"Well," she eventually said, "aren't you going to say anything?"


	5. Moving On

_Previously on "I always wanted a brother":_

_12 years ago_

_Drew: I like koalas_

_Gracie: I'm a pirate_

_Both: OMGBFF's!_

_2 years ago_

_Marc: Can I date your sister?_

_Drew: No._

_Marc: Cool – yo Gracie, dinner, my house, tonight!_

_Gracie: Gee, I don't know…_

_Marc: Lolwat – you must be a lesbian._

_Gracie: Just kidding, I'll go out with you!_

_Two months later_

_Drew: Putting away laundry sucks. Hey there's a pair of men's undies in Gracie's drawer. And a baby names book. And a list of baby names. And a half finished annoyingly vague letter confessing to… something… HOLYCRAPGRACIE'SPREGNANT!1111_

_Two more months later_

_Drew: I know you're pregnant. What's wrong with your arm?_

_Gracie: I'm not pregnant - I'm a boy._

_Drew: O_o_

_And now back to your regularly scheduled programming._

.

oOo

.

Chapter 5 – Moving on

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?"

Drew didn't know what to say. How are you supposed to react to your sister telling you that she's actually a guy? Gracie used to pretend to be a boy when she was 4 or 5, and Drew played along, but they are just kids and it was only a game. It wasn't a game now. They weren't little kids anymore; this was real.

Drew finally broke his gaze with Gracie as he tried to make sense of the news how was just given. The pieces were starting to fall into place; Gracie wasn't pregnant, but really, was that as bad as the truth?

Gracie tried again to get a response.

"Drew, please say something."

A ringing sound began to echo in Drew's ears, as it got louder and louder, Drew realised that it wasn't in his head – it was the telephone.

Drew looked back a Gracie, "that'll be Mom calling to check up on us." He said, turning away to the door, "I should get that."

Gracie tried to stop him.

"No. It's out in the open now; we need to talk about this. Drew, please."

Drew paused, refusing to turn around to look at his sister.

"There's nothing to say," He said, in a low, monotone voice, "we're done."

He could hear Gracie's cries as he headed down the stairs and to the phone, but he wasn't paying attention to her anymore. Nothing had happened. He would just move on and forget about it.

He answered the phone in the hallway.

"Mom? Yeah, everything's fine. No, the oven isn't on. Gracie? She's in her room. Ok, I'll talk to you in half an hour. Fine. Bye."

Drew hung up the phone and made his way back to the living room. It was exactly the way he had left it 20 minutes ago. His snacks were still on the table, but he wasn't hungry anymore. The drum kit was still half-assembled, but Drew didn't feel like playing. How could so much change in such a short time? He was looking forward to having a house free from parents. He had imagined hanging out in the living room with Gracie, playing video games and eating junk food all night.

He started to disassemble the drum kit. It was in the spot where he and Gracie used to play pirates. Gracie was always the fearless Cap'n Gary in their adventures – a guy. It had never occurred to Drew that maybe it was unusual that whenever he and Gracie played games together, she always wanted to play a boy. When they played cowboys, Gracie was Buffalo Bill; when they played superheroes, Gracie was always Batman. Even when they played games like tag or hide-and-seek, they would play as two brothers. None of those memories seemed right anymore; it was as if someone had travelled back to paint over them and make them twisted and strange.

As he cleared up the living room his mood shifted from confused, to angry. Gracie had to ruin all of Drew's childhood memories, leave him worried about her well being for weeks on end, mess up his plans for a fun night in and for what? To keep up some ridiculous fantasy from their childhood? Well Drew wasn't playing. He had other things to do – better things to do.

Gracie could solve her problems on her own.

.

oOo

.

"What's wrong with you today?" Marc asked Drew as he stirred his milkshake distractedly.

"Nothing." Drew replied. It was true; nothing was wrong with _Drew_ – he was perfectly normal compared to a certain messed-up sibling. He and Gracie were _not_ on speaking terms, and had hardly acknowledged one another since Gracie dropped The Boy Bomb a week ago. It was tense and awkward, but it wasn't nearly as tense and awkward as Drew imagined it would be if he actually sat down and listened to his "sister" explain why she wanted to be a dude all of a sudden.

"Well that's unacceptable," Marc replied, pulling the straw out of Drew's hand, "do you realise that we're both single right now? That's just _wrong _dude."

"I guess I don't really feel like dating." Drew said, flatly.

"Who said anything about _dating. _You're the youngest QB in our school's history; you could hook up with any girl you wanted."

Drew considered what Marc had said. He _had _been spending a lot of time worrying about Gracie; maybe he should that energy on a girl who actually _wanted _to be female. There was just one problem.

"Who?"

Marc took a sip of his water and began to scope the cafeteria, scouting for any potential ladies. He turned his attention to the windows.

"How about Nicole?" Said Marc, ushering to a table to Drew's right. Sitting with a group of girls was pep squad co-captain Nicole Brady.

"Nicole?" Drew echoed, "the girl's her IQ is lower than her grade level – and that's saying something."

"So? I'm not saying you have to marry her." Marc said, pointing in the direction of Nicole, "Go! Talk to her, before I do."

Drew got up, ran his hand through his hair and headed over to Nicole's table. She was talking excitedly to her friends, but as soon as Drew approached she stopped gossiping and adjusted her posture in a way that made Drew grateful that Marc suggested her.

"Hi Drew." She said brightly, "You were really great at the last game."

"Well I've got to give the pep squad _something _to be peppy about," said Drew, pulling out his best half-smile. "So, Nicole, I was wondering if you wanted to… hang out sometime. With me."

"Sure. I love to _hang out." _Nicole giggled. "Hang out mean hook up right?"

Drew leaned in and whispered in her ear

"It can mean anything you want it to mean."

Drew pulled away, "I'll call you," he said as he turned around and made hi was back to the table. He looked over to Marc and grinned. Marc gave him the thumbs up. Maybe Marc wasn't as much of an idiot as Drew thought-

Suddenly, Drew felt himself fall to the floor. He was so busy looking over at Marc that he hadn't noticed the other kid walking in the opposite direction.

"Ah, Sorry." Said Drew, trying to recover from the unexpected fall, he looked over to Nicole to determine if she had seen anything. She was texting. He pulled himself up and picked up the book the smaller student had dropped. He went to pull the kid off of floor.

It was Gracie. Of course it was. Who else would read and walk at the same time?

"Uh, here." Drew muttered, passing the copy of the_ Study_ trilogy back to his sister as she got to her feet.

"Thanks," she grumbled, taking the book and shoving it in her bag.

Drew wondered if he should say something. Anything. The tension in the Torres house was unbearable, and even at school it would creep up on him – or walk into him. He took a breath.

"Look Gracie, if you want to talk about-"

"About what?" She cut in, "you made your point loud and clear Andrew. We have nothing to talk about."

And with that, she walked away. Drew made his way back to his table.

"Smooth dude, very smooth." Said Marc, laughing. "What did she say?"

"She didn't say anything. We've barely said a word to each other in a week," Drew sighed." I found out that she has a problem and instead of talking to her about it, I freaked out and left her alone. I mean, what kind of big brother am I if I can't even help my sister when she needs me? I totally let her down and now she won't even speak to me."

Drew buried his hands in his hair. He knew that he had to make things right. But how?

Marc spoke up.

"Uh Drew? I was talking about Nicole…"

.

oOo

.

_This will be the last chapter for a while as I'll be out of the country until October 31st. But thanks again for all the great reviews and feedback – I'll see you in a week with Chapter 6 – Answers._


	6. Answers

_I'm ba-ack. Had a lovely time in Barcelona and am ready to take up this fic again. _

_My chapter 6 file got corrupted (how? I've been in Spain for a week!) so I had to re-write it from memory. It should be pretty much the same hopefully…_

.

oOo

.

Chapter 6 – Answers

_'My sister wants to be a boy'_

Page 1 of 311 (7,775 results)

TEENTOK – I **Want My** **Sister's Boy**friend

_My __**sister**__ is two years older than me and has been going out with a __**boy**__ from our school for a few months now. The problem is I like him too and I think…_

PARENTROOM – Our Son Told Us That His **Sister** Is Sneaking **Boys **Over

Related topics – _Are we too strict with our daughters?_

_Is it unfair to not allow our daughter to date?_

_My **sister's boys** are too violent with our toddler._

LYRICZ HUB – Do You **Want **That **Boy**? (J.J. and the Fantasies)

_… Hey **sister **don't be scared… if you **want to be** his only one…_

_..._

Drew deleted his search. He wasn't sure what he was trying to ask, or what answers he was looking for; this was an entirely new concept for him. It was apparently a new concept for the Internet too, since none of his results had anything to do with his sister wanting to be a boy. In all honesty, Drew knew the best person to ask about this was Gracie, but he still wasn't quite ready to do that yet. He felt bad that he acted as harshly as he did, but part of him was still really, really mad. Of all the Gracie's weird quirks; her obsession with comic books, her insistence on using phrases like "boom" and ""booyah" after succeeding in something, her terrifying appetite, _this _had to be the outcome of all of that. She couldn't just be a tomboy and be done with it?

He sighed and began to type again.

'_Girls who want to be boys' _(he crossed his fingers that his search wouldn't flag the parental alert that Mom installed.)

Page 1 of 5,982 (149,550 results)

GRRRL SECRETS – How To Get **Boys **To Do Anything You **Want**

_Fashion, **Boys**, Parents, Music, Celebrity Gossip, FAQ, Forums_

GENDER IDENTITY – Gender Identity Disorder in Children and Young People

12 Feb 2008_ - What is Gender Identity Disorder? Dr. Patricia Rigby_

_..._

That was it! Drew clicked the second link and was led to the article. Below the headline was a picture of a young girl, maybe around Gracie's age, she was looking in the mirror longingly; her reflection was that of a teenaged boy. Underneath was a caption: _Young people with GID feel like they are in the wrong body for their gender._

Drew began to read the article. He learned that sometimes people could be born with the brain of one gender and the body of the other. There were a lot of science-y things too that he skipped over, something about a hypothala-you-call-it and a nucleus bed of some sort. Drew skipped to the end, where there was a list of related articles. One stood out to him.

...

_Signs that your child may be transgendered._

Drew clicked on the link and was led to another page. This one was not as long or scientific and didn't have any pictures. It contained only a page-long list. Drew began to read it:

- Playing as the opposite gender in role playing games

- Refusing to dress in way that are typical of their biological gender/desire to wear clothes of opposite gender

- Playing with toys typically played with by the opposite gender

- Having an opposite gendered/gender neutral nickname.

- Gravitating towards children of the opposite gender as playmates and friends.

- In older children, there may be signs of discomfort or distress with the changes in their body (boys may become uncomfortable with the idea of growing taller or broader, developing facial and body hair, and having a deeper voice. Girls may become uncomfortable with the idea of developing breasts and hips, or starting menses.) They may also start wearing large or baggy clothes in an attempt to disguise or hide these changes.

- Self harm and self mutilation is commonly seen amongst young people with GID. They may cut or burn their bodies in an attempt to unleash the anger frustration or distress they feel by being in the wrong body (this anxiety is known as "gender disphoria")

...

Drew read the rest of the list. Everything in there could apply to Gracie. He felt an odd sense of panic. This wasn't just a silly phase; this was a disorder. Crazy people have disorders, not Drew's sister. She wasn't a danger to herself or anyone else.

"_But she does burn herself,_" The little nagging voice in Drew's head whispered. "_Whose to say she'll stop there._"

At the end of the article was a footnote.

'_This list is not a diagnostic tool, and should only be used as a guide for considering seeking a medical diagnosis. It is important to talk to your child about how he or she feels. Only they can tell you if they fell trapped inside the wrong gender and how it should best be addressed.'_

Well that was just perfect wasn't it? Drew couldn't talk to his sister about her problems, so he went to the Internet for help, and its answer? Talk to you sister about her problems. Stupid Internet.

.

oOo

.

Drew would have to wait until Thursday night. Dad usually worked late, and Mom had PTA. He and Grace would have the house all to themselves. She couldn't avoid him.

Unless of course she just locked herself in her room, like she had done every other night for the past week-and-a-half. She had taken a supply of video games up to her room, and would only come out for dinner, and only once Drew had finished his.

If Drew wanted Gracie to talk him, it would call for sneakier tactics.

It was Thursday morning. Drew had gotten up earlier than he could ever remember getting up before. Usually he just gave himself just enough time to shower, eat breakfast (whilst simultaneously drying; this was fantastic multitasking on Drew's part) put on his clothes and head out the door. But he had to get up before Gracie took her typical 3-minute shower (Drew had always though that this was just a time thing, now he was starting to think it might be that disphoria thing he had read about and suddenly felt really bad). He listened out for Gracie's alarm going off, quickly being muted and then her footsteps as she headed towards she bathroom she shared with Drew and turned to water on.

Drew sprung into action. Catlike, he ducked into the hall and along to Gracie's room, unnoticed. He didn't have much time. He scanned the room (tidier than his, but still hardly pristine) until his target was acquired. Bingo. He collected his target and slunk out the room, tip-toeing back to his own and hiding the treasure under his bed.

Drew didn't see the rest of his plan fall into place until he was starting his homework after school. He was sitting by his desk, trying to figure out what Hamlet's relationship to Horatio was when he hears a crash from Gracie's room. He smiled. His plan was working. There were more rummaging sounds, followed by some words that, if heard by Mom, would land Gracie in some serious trouble.

Gracie burst through the door.

"What did you do with my X-box controller?" She said, looking annoyed, "I heard you in my room this morning, I know it was you."

Drew chose to ignore the critique of his ninja skills and instead decided to play it cool.

"I could tell you," He said, closing his notebook over in a fashion that he hoped was aloof, "but where would be the fun in that?"

Gracie stared at him.

"It's under your bed isn't it?"

Drew _seriously _needed to work on his ninja skills. He got up.

"Regardless. I think we need to talk about something." He said, ushering Gracie to the bed. "You got a minute?"

Gracie sighed and looked around the room impatiently, before quickly resigning and sitting on the best next to Drew.

"So," Drew started, "You're a guy."

Gracie pulled a face.

"It's a little bit more complicated than that, you see-"

"-you have a guy's brain and a girl's body," Drew finished. "Gender Identity Disorder, right?"

Gracie squinted at him, "how did you-"

"Internet," Drew replied sheepishly, "it was a little helpful, but I figure the best person to get answers from is… you. How long have you known."

"I've always felt this way," Gracie replied quietly, "I guess I really started to feel like I was a boy and everyone else had gotten it wrong when I was four of five. Probably around the time I met you actually…"

Drew cleared his throat, "is this my fault?" he asked. "Is this because you didn't have any girls to play with?"

"No! I had girls to play with, I just didn't _want_ to." Gracie forced a smile before quickly frowning again, "But I guess… I looked at the way people treated me to the way people treated you and though 'wow, I wish I was more like Drew'. It wasn't until there was another kid around the house that I realised that I wasn't like the other boys – I was different."

Gracie paused, but Drew didn't know was he was supposed to say, so decided that it was best to say nothing. Gracie continued.

"Remember when we used to say that we were brothers? I wanted it to always be like that. It really felt like we were brothers. Equals I guess. Do you remember when I was 10 and I came home from school one day and told you that we couldn't be brothers anymore?"

Drew nodded, "Yeah, you were so angry about it too. I still have no idea what that was about."

"That was the day that Miss Proctor gave us 'the talk'." Gracie groaned, "We had all the diagrams, the video, everything. That was honestly the first time that I realised that I wasn't going to grow up the way I wanted to. Like you. Does that sound stupid?"

"No," said Drew, honestly, "I sounds… really sad actually."

"I _was_ sad," Gracie said, staring at her feet, "and so I tried to ignore it. Maybe someone would realise their mistake and I'd get to be like the other guys after all."

Gracie shifted on the bed, "And then, one day, when I was eleven, I went to the bathroom… and…"

Gracie pulled the toggles on her hoodie. Drew didn't know what she meant at first, and them he felt all the blood leave his face.

"Dude" he said. It was all he could think to say. "That sucks."

"I though I'd just grow up and grow out of it but… there more this goes on, the more I feel like this isn't right. I should be like this. I should be like you, or dad. A guy."

Drew went to put his hand on Gracie's shoulder, but then changed his mind. He understood, he guessed. If he woke one day with the wrong parts, he'd be pretty upset too (albeit a bit distracted; how _do_girls go around all day without constantly staring at their chests?) He decided that the best thing to do was to be supportive of his sister and to get her help.

"So who else knows?" Drew asked.

"It's just you." Said Gracie, finally looking away from her shoes and back at Drew, "well, you and some trans guys on the online support groups."

"Trans guys? Is that what they call… people like you?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's better than being called _Gracie_."

And then Drew realised how he could make it up to Gracie.

"Who said that you have to be called Gracie?" He said, finally committing to putting his hand on Gracie's shoulder. "You have that list, what do you like on it?"

"Well I kinda liked Dylan, but-"

"-that weird eraser-eating kid is called Dylan, I know. I give him a swirlee last year. No bro of mine is getting a swirlee. What else?"

"Uh, Matt, Michael – Mike, Adam, Elij-"

"I like Adam." Drew said. "Adam Torres; it sounds cool and manly."

"Uh, don't you think it might be a bit to similar to Andrew? Maybe they're too alike."

"But we _are_ alike," said Drew, "We're brothers."

Gracie- _Adam _smiled. It was the happiest she – _he; __this w__as __going __to __be __difficult__ – _had looked in months.

"Yeah, brothers," Adam said, nodding, "I like it."

Both brothers got off the bed, Adam pointed to the direction of the door.

"I should… homework" he said as he headed for the door.

Drew suddenly remembered.

"Hey!" He called. Adam turned around.

"Don't forget your X-box controller… Adam."

.

oOo

.

_Yay, Adam's here! Some of the pronouns are going to get a bit confusing in the next few chapters – but it's just because Drew is adjusting. See you then._

_- Formatting fake web searches is a logstical nightmare_

_- "Do you want that boy" by JJ and the Fantasies is not available anywhere only because it's a made up song. Ny a made up band..._


	7. Guy Stuff

_I started re-watching some Degrassi's for inspiration and suddenly realised that Drew and Adam never moved house; they just transferred to a different school. This might mess up the fic a little bit down the road. But for now, we're still pre-Degrassi and anything goes. _

_So let's do this!_

.

oOo

.

Chapter 7 – Guy Stuff

"What are you thinking about?"

Drew had no answer. He and Nicole had been making out on his living room couch, but now, 17 minutes in, things were starting to get a bit more heated. This was clearly some sort of test. The right answer would probably lead to the next base. The _honest _answer would probably lead to confusion and one less person on the couch.

Especially since the real thing Drew was thinking about was "_does my trans brother like boys or girls?"_ and that seemed like something of a mood killer.

"You know, just football." Drew finally settled on. He was pleased with his answer. Nicole was not.

"Football?" she echoed, pulling herself into a sitting position and buttoning up her cardigan.

"What are you doing?" Drew asked. How could football be a bad answer?

"I'm bored of making out, and clearly so are you." Nicole hissed, fixing her hair.

"Oh," said Drew; he wasn't ready for Nicole to leave. "Do you want to get order some pizza?"

Nicole unstiffened. "Sure. I could eat."

Drew picked up the phone, delighted at having a bigger window of time in which to get to third base.

"Cool. What do you want? We could share a pepperoni if you want."

"No thanks," said Nicole, "I don't like topping."

Drew dialled the number.

"It's cool, Adam can have what I don't finish."

Nicole stared at him.

"Uh, who's Adam?"

Crap. Drew didn't even realise his mistake. He had been making the effort to call Gracie "Adam" in his head. He had even scolded himself for messing up. But he wasn't ever supposed to say Adam out loud. Especially not to someone they both went to school with.

"No one," He said quickly. "Just a guy on our street; he comes over to play video games sometimes."

Nicole didn't seem convinced, but luckily she didn't push it. She shrugged.

"Whatever," she said. "Just make sure to get a side of chicken strips."

.

oOo

.

Adam came back from his science team meet five minutes after the pizza arrived. Drew had already eaten most of his, but Nicole was still daintily nibbling on her second slice. Did she not realise that pizza tastes best when you first get it? Every moment that went by the pie got colder and less delicious. Drew didn't get girls; that's why he was so glad to have a brother.

He smiled to himself, and Adam leaned over the back of the couch to see what was going on.

"You ordered pizza?" He exclaimed, eyes widening.

"Relax dude, I saved you a slice."

"Booyah!"

Adam ran around the couch, grabbed one of the few remaining slices of pepperoni from the coffee table and jumped into an armchair, devouring it in seconds. _That's _how you eat a pizza. Drew felt oddly proud.

"It's so weird that you call your sister 'dude'," Nicole whined as she pulled a piece of burnt cheese off the crust.

Drew turned to give Adam a knowing look, but Adam wasn't looking back. Adam was looking at Nicole. _Weirdly_. He had a strange half-smile going on. Drew knew that smile; it was the on _he_ used on girls he liked.

Drew had the sudden urge to tell Adam to back off – but Nicole would probably think it was strange for him to suddenly get angry at his sister for no apparent reason.

"I need a soda." Adam said getting up, he seemed unaware that he had been staring, let alone that Drew had caught him doing it.

"I'll come with you," Nicole said, putting her half-eaten slice on the coffee table and wiping her hands.

Drew put his hand on Nicole's arm.

"Maybe that's not a good idea." Drew said.

Nicole shook him off and stood up next to Adam.

"Don't be silly," Nicole scoffed. "What do think we're going to do, talk about you? We won't even be _thinking _about you."

_"That's what I'm afraid of"_ Drew thought, as they both walked over to the kitchen. He muted the TV to hear what they were saying.

"Do you have any diet?" Nicole asked.

"Yeah, it's on the second top shelf" Adam replied.

Drew heard the sounds of the pantry opening and closing. It didn't sound very seductive, but he kept listening anyway, just in case.

"So you're on the science team?" Nicole asked. "That must be, like, really difficult."

"Not really," Adam said, in a tone that may or may not have been flirty, "I like science."

"Wow, you must be so smart," Nicole said, Drew imagined that Adam was quietly nodding in agreement, "I totally suck at science. I'm _failing _at science actually."

Drew pictured Nicole dramatically turning her head away in shame, and Adam placing his hand on her chin to gently turn her back around to look up to him. But this probably didn't happen because, psychically, Adam was a 14-year-old girl and much smaller than Nicole.

"I can help you sometime." Adam said, cheerfully. "If you want. I could tutor you. One on one."

He was flirting! There was no doubt about it - that was grade-A flirting. Drew had to intervene.

He crammed his pizza into his mouth and jumped over the couch, running to the kitchen. When he got there, Adam and Nicole were smiling at one another. Nicole had her hand on Adam's arm.

"Your sister just offered to tutor me!" Nicole beamed. "Isn't that so sweet?" 

"Oh yeah, she's a sweetheart alright," Drew deadpanned. "My Mom will be home soon, you should probably go."

Nicole put down her glass.

"Ok, I'm pretty full anyway." She said.

She turned to hug Adam. "Thanks Gracie, you're so nice. I can't believe you're related to _that_ guy. See you Drew."

Nicole walked out the house without so much as smiling at Drew. He and Adam were left alone in the kitchen.

"What do you think you're doing with my-" Drew started, but he didn't want to say 'girlfriend' because that wasn't entirely accurate. "What do you think you're doing with Nicole?"

Adam shrugged innocently. "Nothing. We're just talking."

"Don't even try it Adam, I know what _'just talking'_ is – I invented '_just talking'_."

Adam put his glass down. "What's your problem?"

"You told me you were straight," Drew said, heatedly.

"I _am_ straight," shouted Adam.

"Then why are you hitting on a girl?" Drew said, before he could stop himself.

"Because I'm a boy!" said Adam, emphasising every word. "And I thought you understood that."

Drew put his hands in his pockets and sighed heavily. "You're right, I'm sorry. I guess I never expected you to like girls. Especially not the same ones as me."

"Well at least now you never have to get all over-protective about me seeing guys at our school." Adam joked.

Drew smiled. Adam was a lot smarter than Drew, he got better grades, he knew bigger words, he was a grade _ahead _of him in math. But when it came to girls, Drew was a straight-A student. He could be of real help to Adam in that department.

"Who else do you like," Drew asked. "At our school, I mean."

Adam pulled a face and looked at the ceiling, deep in concentration.

"Yvette Dalton, Rebecca Ford, Susan Bishop, _definitely_ Demi Ramirez, Paulette Banks is ok too, I guess… oh, and Jenny Adler, but only when she doesn't straighten her hair."

Drew was startled. Not because his brother list was incredibly long (and oddly specific) but because it was absolutely identical the Drew's - even down to thinking that Jenny Adler looked hotter with her natural curls.

"Wow, you really _do _like girls." Drew exclaimed.

"Yeah, but I hardly think they'd go for me." Adam sighed. He was right. Adam may have been a guy, but he looked like a girl. He had long hair, feminine features, feminine… other things. He wasn't tall or strong or broad. He wasn't Drew.

"Well some girls like sensitive guys," Drew said, skirting the word 'girly'. "It's all about confidence anyway."

"And _you're_ such an expert?" Adam joked. "You have the pep-squad co-captain alone in the house and you were sitting eating pizza. That's so weak, man."

"For you information, we _were _making out." Said Drew, defensively. "But then she got all weird about it."

"Why?" Asked Adam. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! She asked me what I was thinking about, I said 'football' and then she-"

Adam groaned.

"Football? Really?" He said, looking at Drew like he was a complete idiot.

"Yeah, so?"

Adam crossed his arms. "The only correct answer to that question is 'you'. Or how nice she looks – as long as you're thinking about her, you're in the clear."

"How do you know so much about girls?" Drew asked. And he meant it; Adam may have been his sister for ten years, but he still never dated anyone.

"I may not be a girl up here," Adam said, tapping his head. "But I still get treated like one. I know what girls like to hear. They talk to each other about these kinds of things."

Suddenly, a light switched on in Drew's head. All this time he was thinking about how he could help Adam, but he didn't realise until then that Adam could help him too.

"Of course!" Drew said. "You're like a double agent. You can get all the secret info that other guys can't get."

"Well there's got to be a plus in being trans_ somewhere_, right?" Adam said, smirking.

"We could be the best wingmen ever!" Drew said excitedly. "But first thing's first – we need to get you a new, more manly look."

Adam look down at himself and then glared at Drew.

"Yeah that'll work," He scoffed. "I'll just come home one day in guys clothes with my hair cut off and Mom and Dad will never even question it!"

Drew grinned at his little brother.

"Well them I guess we're going to have to introduce Mom and Dad to Adam then, aren't we?"

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_The Torres bros liking the same girls is a long-held tradition that remains to this day. Bianca? Fiona? Katie? Yup, those boys have identical tastes…_


	8. Out

_This chapter was fun to write. I love writing bossy people, and Mama Torres is the ultimate bossypants._

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Chapter 8 - Out

"I can't do this"

"Yes you can, it's fine."

"They're gonna get mad - they'll kick me out."

"Don't be stupid; it's Mom and Dad we're talking about here." Said Drew. He and Adam were both in Drew's room. They had been working out what they were going to tell Mom and Dad. Adam was losing his nerve.

"But what if… I don't… dude, I can't do this." Adam said, hands pressing on the top of his head.

"You can do this." Drew said, enthusiastically. "You told _me_, remember?"

"Yeah, and then you walked away and wouldn't talk to me," Adam retorted.

Drew felt a twinge of guilt, "But I'm an idiot. Mom and Dad aren't as pig-headed as me, right?"

Adam failed to resist a smile. He nodded.

"Right. Lets do this." He said, shakily.

"Yes!" Drew cheered, high-fiving his brother.

The brothers headed towards the door when Adam stopped suddenly.

"Uh," Adam said. "What are we supposed to open with? '_Hey Mom and Dad, Gracie's actually a dude_' seems a little strong."

Drew patted Adam on the back.

"Don't worry bro," he said. "I got this."

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oOo

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"Mom? Dad? Gracie has something to tell you. But when she tells you, just remember that she's not pregnant. That makes everything seem a lot better. Trust me!"

Adam glared at Drew, "yeah, you really _got this_, bro."

Mom turned the television off and turned herself around to face her children.

"What are you kids talking about?" she said, looking baffled.

Drew nudged a frozen Adam forward. "Go on, dude. Tell them."

Adam walked around the couch and sat on the armchair, facing his parents. Dad was quietly chewing on a cashew nut.

"Uh… hi," Adam started, nervously. "So there's something I've been meaning to tell you. It's not anything bad – I'm not in trouble or anything, but it's something that's really important to me."

Mom and Dad both repositioned themselves, leaning closer to Adam. Drew felt incredibly nervous. He couldn't imagine how Adam must have been feeling.

"Well if it's important to you Gracie, you can tell us." Dad said, smiling.

Adam nodded. "Ok." He took a deep, shaky breath. "So, I've never really been a girly girl or anything. I never liked dresses or dolls... and there's a reason for that."

Mom sighed and put her hands to her temples. Drew felt the color drain from his face; he wished Mr. Koala were here.

"Gracie," Mom said slowly. "We know."

Adam looked around, as if looking for the hidden cameras that were about to pop out, "you know?"

Mom leaned over and squeezed Adam's hand. "Well, we suspected this for a while now, your father and I. But the fact that you've gotten the courage to tell us… well… we're just so proud of you. And we love you so much; no matter what."

Adam smiled. So did Drew. That was not how he was expecting the conversation to go. He suddenly realised that he had not been breathing, and took a large sigh of relief.

"So," said Mom, excitedly. "Is there any particular reason you're telling us this now? Maybe… someone in your life?"

Adam nodded over to Drew, "well, Drew knows. And he's been helping me."

Dad gave Drew a look of approval, Drew felt oddly grown-up; this is how things are handled by mature adults.

"I bet you're sort of relieved, aren't you son," Dad said. "Now you don't need to worry about keeping all the boys away from your sister."

"I… guess?" Drew said. He wasn't quite sure he understood. Adam seemed confused too.

"Wait," Adam said. "What do you think I'm trying to tell you?"

Mom squeezed Adams hand again, "sweetheart, it's ok if you like girls. Love is love; and we'll support you no matter what."

Adam pulled his hands away. "No that's not what I'm telling you. I'm not a lesbian!"

Mom and Dad looked at each other, then to Drew, and then back to Adam.

"Oh," Mom said, she shook her bafflement away. "Then, if that's not what you wanted to tell us; what is?"

Adam rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean, I like girls, but not _as _a girl."

"I'm sure I understand, Gracie." Dad said, softly.

"I'm not a girl," Adam said, quietly. "Not really. I don't feel like one inside. I'm a guy in a girl's body – an FTM; female-to-male transgender."

There was silence for what seemed like an eternity. Nobody would look at anyone else. It was horrible. Drew wished that someone were yelling; at least then it wouldn't be as awkward.

Eventually, Mom turned to Drew. "You knew about this?"

"Yeah, I found out. And then Adam and I talked about it."

"_Adam?" _Mom said, exasperated; she turned back to Adam. "Is this because of your father? Because he forgot your birthday? So you can feel closer to him?"

"What? No!." Adam yelled. "Yeah, because this is _really _going to impress Dad."

"Then why _are _you doing this?" Mom cried. "Do you want to get a… sex change?"

"Yeah, one day." Adam said, trying to control his voice. "But for now, I just want people to treat me like how I feel. And I want to be able to _dress_ how I feel; I hate having to wear girl's clothes."

Dad was starting intensely at the coffee table in front of him. "Is there someone we can go to - to talk about this?

Adam shrugged, "there's a few counsellors in Vancouver; gender specialists at stuff. But I don't really know how you're supposed to see them."

Mom shook her hair away from her face and sighed. "Right. Well that's the first thing we should do. We get Gracie to a counsellor and see what they say."

"That's another thing," Adam said. "I don't want to be called 'Gracie' anymore. My name is Adam."

"I think we should hold off on any changes until we see a counsellor." Mom said, firmly.

Adam sulked, but Mom was having none of it.

"Quite frankly, this is quite a big bomb you've dropped on us Gracie." Mom said, forcibly. "And if thing's are going to change, then we're going to do it properly. Now wait there. I'll get the phone book and we'll find out who we're supposed to talk to about this."

Mom and Dad both got up and left the living room. Adam stared in disbelief. Drew was pretty surprised too. That was _not _how he thought it would go down. He had imagined more tears and yelling and hugging. Trust Mom to try and micromanage Adam's coming out. Drew sat on the now empty couch and faced his brother.

"Well," Drew said. "That went well."

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oOo

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_- Well that's it for another chapter. Things have been pretty low on the drama scale so far, but Adam hasn't had to come out at school yet…_

_- Also, Adam's biological Dad is kind of a jerk. You'll see!_


	9. For No One

_I know, it's been a while – very sorry. So to make up for it – here's an extra long chapter. Yay. I had a version of this chapter written, but I really hated it. It originally had the actual therapy sessions in it, but it felt way too repetitive – we already know how Adam feels and why he wants to transition. So therapy sessions are cut, and Drew feels more left out and unneeded._

_Also this chapter is named after a really lovely Beatles song about someone you care about not needing you anymore._

_"The day breaks, your mind aches. You find that all her words of kindness linger on when she no longer needs you"_

_Check is out if you don't know it – it's a great song! (I listened to the Kina Grannis version on YouTube whilst writing this chapter.)_

_And back to the story:_

_._

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Chapter 9 – For No one

Over the next few weeks, Drew started to notice some slight differences around the house. Mom had been taking Adam to therapy, and had made at least some effort to use the correct name and pronouns (at least in front of Adam.) The tense atmosphere that had clouded the house for the past few months had lifted a little bit, and everyone had started to actually _talk _to one another again. But the biggest change was in Adam. For the first time in a long time he seemed happy and relaxed. Drew should've been happy; things were starting to get better again. But he was feeling strangely annoyed. Ever since Mom found out about Adam, she had taken over everything and Drew had been left on the wayside. It wasn't the lack of attention that was bothering him (he had the house to himself almost every night of the week to play video games or invite Nicole over) it was the lack of involvement. Drew was the first person to know about Adam, Drew was the one who helped pick Adam's new name, Drew was the one who helped Adam tell Mom and Dad and now Drew was the one who stayed at home while everybody else went to counselling or LGBT support or the dozens of other things you were apparently required to go to when you have Gender Identity Disorder.

Drew had the place to himself the whole evening this time. It had come out at one of the previous therapy sessions that Adam was self-harming; apparently this was pretty common amongst trans kids. This also meant a back-to-back session with the gender specialist as well as self-injury counsellor. Drew decided to call both Marc and Nicole, in hopes that at least one of them would be free to come over. They both were. Marc decided that this meant this, doubled with the fact that no one else would be back until at least 10.30, was an opportune evening for beer.

Drew had drank before, he could handle his beer, but he really didn't want to get into trouble.

"Relax dude," Marc assured him, "nobody will even notice that you're a little tipsy."

Drew conceded. No one really noticed anything he did anymore. "Fine. Pass me a beer."

Nicole cheered and kissed Drew whilst Marc passed over a can. A few drinks in, Marc asked the question Drew was surprised the no one had thought of before.

"So… where are the rest of the Torres family anyway?" He asked, between sips. "And why are you not invited?"

Drew had an answer prepared. He was supposed to say that Adam (or Gracie) was spending time with his dad. Drew thought this idea was pretty stupid since anyone who knew the first thing about Adam's dad would know that it was highly unlikely that he would be spending four evenings a week having quality time with his "old" family. Regardless, that was the excuse he was told to go with. But Drew decided to go in a different direction.

"Nothing." Drew said, "Gracie's just being a weirdo, and apparently that requires therapy."

Drew realised that it was a mistake as soon as he said it out loud. He should've went with the dad thing, could he still go with the dad thing? Please?

"Oh my god, what for?" Nicole asked.

"She's spending time with her dad!" Drew said quickly. Maybe they'd just ignore the first part, neither Marc nor Nicole were particularly astute after all.

"Oh family therapy." Marc said confidently. "I had to do that when my folks split up, but that was like, _when _they were splitting up. Haven't your sister's parents been divorced for, like, over ten years?"

Drew was trying to think of an answer, but Nicole provided one for him.

"You don't get it," Nicole replied, "Being a teenage girl is really hard, you need to have your dad around. I read that its, like, really important for girls to have a positive male influence. Otherwise you just become a stripper or something. CosmoGirl taught me that."

Nicole nodded solemnly; Drew was surprised that she even knew half of those words. Alcohol must have made her smarter. He wondered if Nicole was right; if teenage girls really did need to have guys that they can look up to. And if so, who was Gracie's – Dad? Drew? Drew felt that he was a good role model. He always listened when Gracie had had a bad day and needed someone to talk to; he would let Gracie go on his shoulders at concerts when they were too far away to see the stage; he warned her about the kind of moves guys put on girls when they only wanted one thing from them – he was a good influence for his sister – she needed him.

And then Drew remembered that he didn't have a little sister anymore. No one needed him.

"We should start cleaning up," he sighed, "My parents will be home in an hour, and I really don't want to get grounded again this semester."

Nicole and Marc begrudgingly got up and started to help Drew clean up. Drew shook himself out of his little pity party. He was being stupid; just because Gracie was Adam now, didn't mean that they couldn't still do all the things they used to do.

He managed to get the house tidied and the guys to leave with 10 minutes to spare, but Drew decided that he didn't want to stay up and get the feedback from Mom.

He just wanted to sleep.

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oOo

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Drew wasn't expecting to be waken up so early on a Saturday; especially after his drinking session the night before. But there Mom was, sitting on the edge of Drew's bed, shaking him to life.

"Come on sleepyhead," She said, gently. "We've got a big day ahead of us."

"But it's morning." Drew grumbled. He wasn't used to seeing Saturday in the AM – even without a hangover.

"Yes, I know." Mom sighed. "But we have to get your sister some new clothes, and I need you to come and help us."

Drew bolted upright, causing Mom to jump off the bed in surprise. This was a mistake – he shouldn't have gotten up so fast; now his head was spinning. He tried to push the dizziness to one side and enjoy that fact that he was actually being given a job to do. Finally, something Drew could help with!

Mom left him to get ready, she had been making better progress with calling Adam by his proper name. Sometimes, Drew heard her say 'bye Gracie' under her breath when Adam left the room, and Drew suspected that she was secretly hoping that Adam was going to change his mind. Drew didn't really see what the fuss was all about – Gracie and Adam were the same person with a different name; why did no one else seem to get that? Yeah, it's a shock at first, but really – it was only a few shifts in pronouns. That's all it was. Life wasn't going to change. Not really. Right?

Drew regretted the decision to get up so early as he stood groggily in the department store listening Adam and Mom argued. He couldn't deal with loud noises, not today.

_"-I just think that the other one will be too… obvious"_

_"Obviously what Mom; obviously not girls clothes? That's kind of the point!"_

_"Don't you think it would be better to not draw too much attention to yourself at school?"_

_"I'd rather just feel comfortable at school. And I'm going to feel more comfortable in the other one!"_

_"I don't know. What do you think Drew. Drew?"_

Drew shook himself out of his bleariness. "Yeah, whatever you want." He said, hoping that his agreeing would stop all the _noise. _It didn't.

_"See, Drew agrees with me Mom!"_

_"I'm 90% sure your brother's sleepwalking. I think we should get this one."_

_"Can we at least get it in a larger size. And a different color?"_

_"Fine. See? This is what compromise is all about."_

Compromise. That was the word of the day. Drew was pretty sure it was said at least 1,000 times during that shopping trip. They compromised on how baggy the jeans were allowed to be, on whether or not flannel was acceptable, on why anything fitted is forbidden. If Drew weren't so tired, queasy and hungry at the same time, he would have intervened – and made it clear that flannel is _never_ acceptable, but he just really want to simultaneously eat French fries and nap.

And then came the argument about the haircut. By this time Drew was feeling a little bit better, but, as if to compensate for this, the 'compromising' got _a lot_ louder.

_"A lot of girls have short hair too."_

_"Yes, but not that short. I think just below the ears is just fine."_

_"But that's still long for a guy."_

_"Well, sweetie, a lot of guys have long hair too."_

_"That's not fair."_

_"Well life isn't fair, Gracie."_

_"My name's not Gracie!"_

_"Sorry. Adam. If you wear a hat, then it will look fine."_

_"Well what's the point of getting a haircut if you're just going to wear a hat all the time?"_

_"Oh, do you not want a haircut now?_

_"No, I do-"_

_"-Great. Then we can start with just by the ears, and then we'll think about getting it shorter next time. Deal?"_

_"Fine. Deal."_

"Great." Mom turned her attention to Drew. "Drew, can you sit here and watch the stuff?"

"Sitting," Drew yawned. "I can do that."

Mom and Adam went away and Drew sat in the foot court with his eyes screwed shut. He didn't actually do that much to help, but at least he got to be involved. That was a start. He sat with his eyes closed and tried to block out the noises around him. It all became a unidentifiable blur in his head, it was oddly soothing. Every so often a baby crying or a store alarm would knock him out of his calm, but for the most part he felt peaceful. After an hour of this, he heard Mom's voice. He was talking to someone who Drew couldn't identify.

"I can't remember where we left Drew." Said Mom, she sounded tired.

"Is that not him over there, under the mountain of shopping bags?" Said the voice Drew couldn't identify. Drew sat, massaging his temples. The hour of peace had done him a world of good. He opened his refreshed eyes. He was ready to face the world.

He wasn't, however, ready to face Adam Torres. Complete with guys clothes and short hair. Adam casually walked over and sat opposite his brother, as if he hadn't just gone a drastic physical transformation.

"You want to get some fries dude?" Adam asked an astonished Drew. There he was – Adam. He _looked _like Gracie; same eyes, same freckles; same goofy smile. But it wasn't Gracie. Adam didn't sit the same way as her, move the same way as her, talk the same way as her. He wasn't her. It was like Gracie's twin brother Adam had come to stay and Gracie was gone. Forever.

Drew felt a strange coldness take over his body and he didn't know why. He knew on a logical level that this was the same person he'd always known. But on an instinctual one, he knew that things were going to be different. His relationship with Adam wouldn't be the same one he had with Gracie. Big brothers are supposed to take care of their little sisters; make sure they're safe and happy and that they never have anything to cry about. What was he supposed to do with a brother? Drew was suddenly very aware that there wasn't really that much of an age difference between him and Adam – just a little over a year. He wasn't really _that_ much of a big brother. Adam was a lot smarter than Drew; he had a therapist for any extra support he needed - what could Drew possibly have to teach him?

Drew sat quietly in car ride home. He barely touched his dinner, even though his hangover had long gone.

And that night Drew went to his bed, stared at the ceiling and cried himself to sleep.

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_- We're starting to see an interesting dynamic between the Torres brothers – Drew needs to feel needed and Adam needs to feel wanted. (I think that's a Cheap Trick song…)_

_- So Adam is undeniably out now. I wonder how it's all going to go down at school on Monday? I wonder if anything will happen that will make Drew feel needed again, hmm…_

_- Drew, Marc and Nicole in the same conversation. It's a sorry state of affairs when Drew is the smartest person in the room! (Although, Drew's slightly warped logic is quite fun to write.)_

_Stay tuned for the next chapter, in which Adam comes out at school and Drew works out where he fits in his brother's new life._


	10. Superheroes

_It's been a while. Exams 0_o. Here's some BabyDrew and BabyAdam to make up for the delays. Woo!_

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Chapter 10 – Superheroes

**September 2002**

Drew was ready to start 2nd grade. He had his new backpack, a fully equipped pencil case and enough notebooks to make a whole room full of paper airplanes and treasure maps.

But best of all was the lunchbox.

As soon as Drew saw it in the mall, he had begged Mom for it; blue with a red handle and emblazoned with the Superman logo on the front. It was cool, it was heroic, and it came with a matching thermos. It was the most perfect lunchbox ever.

So _of course_ Gracie had to get a matching Batman one.

If Drew was being fair, he would probably just accept that Gracie probably didn't pick her lunchbox because she was copying, but because she loved Batman. She had a large collection of the comics and could through read them faster than Drew despite being a grade younger She always chose Batman when they played superheroes. She even got a remote controlled Batmobile for her last birthday. But Drew saw the Superman one first!

Mom bought them both despite Drew's protests of unfairness. Now both luncboxes were sitting the kitchen counter filled with sandwitchy goodness. Drew found himself glaring at them huffily as Mom fussed over Gracie's pigtails.

"And you'll be a good girl at the big school today, won't you Gracie?" Mom said as she tightened a ribbon on the end of Gracie's hair.

"I promise." She said enthusiastically.

Mom smiled and tilted her head in Drew's direction.

"And you'll take care of your sister on her first day, won't you Drew?" She said in a much sterner tone than the one she used with Gracie.

Drew nodded sulkily. Mom didn't smile.

"_Won't you Drew_?" She said again, in a much firmer tone.

Drew sighed.

"Yes Mom, I'll take care of Gracie." Drew said exasperatedly. This time Mom smiled.

"Good," She said as she finished Gracie's hair and got onto her feet. "In that case, have a great day at school. Both of you."

She grabbed the lunchboxes off the counter and gave then each to Drew and Gracie along with a kiss on the cheek.

Drew grabbed Gracie's free hand and led her out the front door.

"I have some rules that you need to follow," Drew said as he took Gracie down the path to school. "First of all, you don't cross the street without me, ok? Secondly, you can't come up to me at recess – you need to make your own friends. And lastly, you meet me at the swings after school so I can walk you home. Got it?"

"But what if I don't like any of the other kids?" Gracie asked. She had gotten in trouble with playing too rough with the other girls before. Drew couldn't see what the problem was; Drew and Gracie play fought all the time and they never got yelled at for it.

"Well… just _try_ to like them." He said as they waited to cross the street. "Remember to look both ways."

"I know," Gracie said pulling at Drew's hand. "Do I have to hold onto you the whole time?"

"Yes," Said Drew firmly. "I'm your big brother, I have to keep you safe. It's my job."

.

oOo

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**May 2010**

Mom and Adam left early on Monday morning. They had to have a long talk with the Principal. Drew would have to walk to school.

The walk wasn't so bad. It gave him plenty of time to think. How would the rest of the school react to Adam? People would say _something _about it - a grade 9 girl leaving school on Friday and returning as a boy on Monday wasn't a common occurrence – but would they say cruel things? Would Adam be able to handle it?

Drew pondered this as he absentmindedly kicked a soda can along the sidewalk; he imagined that some the girls would be mean about it, that's what girls do, but the guys would probably exclude Adam completely for not being a real guy, and that would probably hurt a lot more than stupid name calling.

As he reached the school gates, Drew took a breath and realised that he would just have to wait and see what was going to happen

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**September 2002**

Drew realised he had told Gracie to stay away from his at recess, but when he saw his sister sitting at the bottom of the jungle gym, hugging her legs with her head buried in her knees, he knew that something was very wrong.

"What's wrong Gracie?" He asked kneeling down beside her.

"They took my lunchbox," She said, trying furiously hard not to cry. "They said it was a boy's lunchbox and I wasn't allowed to have it."

"Who said that?" Drew asked. Gracie pulled anxiously at her pigtails.

"Just some kids in my class" She said, blinking back tears.

Drew pulled Gracie up.

"Show me who it was." Drew demanded.

Gracie fidgeted, trying desperately hard not to look at anything or anyone.

"I can ask Mom for another lunchbox, it's ok." She insisted.

"No it's not," Drew yelled. "No one messes with my sister."

Drew grabbed Gracie's hand and pulled her toward the direction of a large group of first graders. He had planned to ask them if they knew anything about Gracie's lunchbox, but when he got to them he didn't need to ask. They were rummaging through it as Drew approached.

"Hey. Give my sister back her lunchbox." Drew shouted as Gracie made her best attempt to sink into the ground and disappear.

None of the kids dared answer back to a 2nd grader, but made no attempt to hand over the lunchbox either.

"Now!" He said, "Or I'll get a teacher."

The 1st graders rushed to return the lunch box and it's contents back to Gracie and quickly scattered. Drew felt something run into his side and looked down to see Gracie hugging him tightly.

"Thanks Drew," She said, grinning widely. "You're the best brother ever."

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oOo

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**May 2010**

Drew didn't hear even a whisper about Adam until the beginning of study period just before lunch when Marc took his usual seat next to him.

"Dude, have you heard what they're saying?" Marc asked frantically. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Drew replied, preparing himself for what he imagined would be an onslaught of questions and ridicule.

"You're sister's going around dressed as a _boy,"_ Marc whispered. "I heard that the teachers are saying we've to call her Adam. What's up with that?"

"She's… _he's _got something called Gender Identity Disorder." Drew replied, just loudly enough so that the people listening would be able to hear every word he was saying. "It means that he looks like a girl, but he had a guy's brain. It's a real thing dude."

Marc leaned in closer, and hushed Drew.

"Don't you know what this means?" Marc hissed.

Drew knew exactly what it meant. It meant that Gracie was gone, it meant that there was this new person called Adam, and it meant that things were going to be different from now on.

But Marc seemed to have a different idea of what it all meant.

"I dated that," Marc said in the most aggressive whisper Drew had ever heard. "I dated a girl and them all of a sudden after we went out she's a guy now. What do you think people are going to say about that; what they think it says about _me_?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with you," Drew said. "Or me. Gracie wasn't even really a real person, because it was Adam on the inside. He only went out with you because he was trying to be-"

"I didn't date a guy!" Marc shouted. "Don't you _ever _say that!"

Drew stayed silent, fearing that anything he said would make Marc further enraged. Marc's breathing began to calm.

"I didn't date a guy," Marc repeated, this time quietly, but it was somehow more threatening sounding that it was when he was yelling. "I didn't, I-I… I was tricked. _It_ tricked me – I didn't know it was some sort of he-she!"

"Hey watch it, you're talking about my brother, man." Drew said, his voice beginning to get louder, he was very aware that everyone in study hall was listening in. But Marc wasn't listening to Drew, his eyes were distant and his face was hard. Drew suddenly felt afraid.

"It tricked me," Marc said again, his voice flat. "It tried to make me look like an idiot."

Drew wanted to punch Marc for saying those things about Adam, but he couldn't move. He had become completely frozen; all he could feel was his heart thumping aggressively in his chest. It was beating so hard it hurt. And then Marc said something that made Drew's heart stop beating altogether.

"I'll teach it to try and trick me."

.

oOo

.

**September 2002**

It took Gracie almost a minute to notice that Drew was in the kitchen watching her.

"What are you doing?" He asked as Gracie tried to hide a plastic bag behind her back.

"Nothing!" she said quickly, but Drew was not convinced. He grabbed the plastic bag off her and looked inside. There was a sandwich with the crusts messily cut off, a banana and a juice box.

"What are you doing?" Asked Drew, genuinely perplexed at his sister's actions.

Gracie pulled her hair behind her ears, "The other kids in my class said they'd take my lunchbox if I brought it in again. I don't want them to be mean to me."

Drew began to pace angrily. He paced a lot when he was mad, it made him feel like he was doing something. "We have to tell Mom what's going on."

"Please don't tell Mom!" Gracie pleaded. "I don't want to make it worse."

Drew stopped pacing, couldn't come up with anything to say and started pacing again. What did the other first graders have against Batman? Granted he wasn't as cool as Superman, at least Superman had _real _powers and didn't have to use gadgets to be treated like a superhero, but Batman was still a superhero – even if he did need a little extra help to be one. Drew had to deicide – what would Superman do in this situation?

Drew sighed deeply.

"What if I take both our lunchboxes to school," Drew said. "And then at lunchtime, you can come sit with me and we'll eat lunch together."

Gracie's face lit up. "You would do that? Really?"

"Sure," Drew shrugged. "What are brother's for?"

Gracie ran to the cabinet to rescue her Batman lunchbox, smiling all the way.

That afternoon (and every afternoon to come until Drew reached middle school) Gracie and Drew sat together at lunch and ate their matching sandwiches from their matching superhero lunchboxes and Drew knew that if Superman were watching he'd be very proud.

.

oOo

.

**May 2010**

Drew wasted no time in running towards the English class that Adam was supposed to be leaving for lunch. But when he got there, Adam was missing.

"She's not been in any classes today," one of the girls told Drew. "I think she's still with the guidance counsellor."

Drew didn't bother to correct her pronouns as he sprinted to the guidance office. He arrived just as Miss Gordon, the counsellor, was leaving for lunch.

"Where's my brother?" Drew asked between breaths. "I need to see him."

"Adam's having lunch in one of the classrooms," Miss Gordon said gently. "Just until the teachers can explain his situation to the students. We don't want any of his classmates to be misinformed – for Adam's sake."

"Yeah, yeah that's great Miss Gordon." Said Drew impatiently. "Can you just tell me _which_ class room?"

oOo

Drew ran as fast as he could to the 3rd floor music room where Miss Gordon said Adam was having his lunch. He hoped he got there before Marc or anyone else did.

But when Drew got to the classroom, nobody was there. Not even Adam.

Drew leaned against the piano as he tried to get his breath back. Adam _had_ been in the music room, his things were lying under a desk, but there was no sign of where he was now, or of he was in any danger.

Then he heard the crowd yelling.

Drew grabbed Adam's backpack and followed the sound the voices. He found them at the far end of the east corridor; a crowd of perhaps two-dozen students from grades nine and ten. Drew forced his was through to see Marc towering over Adam in a corner. As far as Drew could see Marc wasn't hurting Adam, but Drew didn't care. He grabbed Marc by the collar of his shirt and threw him against the lockers with as much force as he could muster.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my brother?" Drew roared, pushing Marc as far up against the lockers as he could.

"What brother?" Marc spat. "You mean you're messed up he-she of a sister?"

"Shut up!" Drew yelled "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

Drew pushed Marc further into the lockers, if that was at all possible, and prepared to punch him when the crowd of students scattered.

"Hey!" A voice from behind Drew bellowed. "Break it up boys."

Drew felt the hand of a teacher he didn't know push him away from Marc. Drew looked over at Adam, who was still in the corner. His lip was bleeding, his shirt was ripped and he was shaking. Drew ran over to his brother.

"Are you ok? What did he do to you?" Drew asked, too frightened to actually touch Adam in fear that Adam had more injuries that Drew couldn't see.

Adam nodded. "I'm fine. He grabbed me and I tried to get away and fell to the floor. That's how-" he trailed off and pointed to his bloody lip.

The teacher was taking Marc away with him. Marc turned around and stared at Drew and Adam.

"Next time freak." Marc shouted. "I know where you live!"

As Marc was escorted away, Adam sunk to the floor, as if his knees gave away from under him. Drew sat beside him and gave his brother the backpack he recovered from the music class.

"Did he try to hurt you?" Drew asked, "Because if he even tried to hurt you I'll-"

"No." Adam said, clutching the backpack tightly against his torso. "He grabbed my arm and starting saying 'why are you dressed like that' over and over again. Then he started pulling at me saying 'what are you hiding under there, huh?' and I tried to pull away. I fell and hit my face on the floor. Then he ran me into the corner and you came along."

"You shouldn't have left the classroom Adam." Drew scolded.

"I had to go to the bathroom-"

"-I don't care, you could have been hurt," Drew said. "What if I hadn't been there to help you?"

Adam got up, slung his backpack over his shoulder and wiped the blood away from his mouth.

"What if you hadn't?" Adam yelled. "So I got into a fight, what's the big deal? You get into fights all the time!"

"Well that's different." Drew said, getting up from the floor.

"_How_ is it different?" Adam asked angrily.

"Because-" Drew started. "You _know_ why."

Adam's eyes narrowed. "You know what. Just leave me alone, ok? I don't need you, I can take care of myself."

And with that Adam started to walk away

Drew tried to call to him. "Where are you going? Adam?"

But Adam didn't respond. He just left Drew there, feeling completely powerless.

.

oOo

.

_I have to admit – a freakin' love writing baby Torres bros. But Drew's wrong – Batman is waayy cooler that Superman._

_I mean think about it:_

_Looking at Superman, it's pretty obvious that he's a superhero – he can fly, he has laser eyes and he was stop bullets with his eyeballs. Batman isn't biologically a superhero, but he's a superhero on the inside, and if it means that he has to use gadgets and pimped-out cars in order to save people then so be it. In the long run it makes him more interesting and much more heroic since he has to work twice as hard to prove himself to be a superhero. He ignores the haters and follows the path that he knows he needs to take – even if it is the tougher one. Luckily Superman is a totally supportive broth- uh, friend (even if he does steal all of Batman's crushes.)_

_I think I may have lost my train of though there…_

_- I had a Ninja Turtles lunchbox when I was a kid – it was pretty boss (my favourite was always Donatello.) _

_- Join us in Chapter 11 – in which the Torres family have to make some big changes in order to ensure Adam's safety. _


	11. Safe

_Bad weather meant I had the day off today, so here's a chapter for y'all._

Chapter 11 – Safe

For the rest of the school week Adam had to go from class to class accompanied by a teacher, but that didn't stop the other students from having their fun. Adam's locker was filled with various things, from tampons to water balloons, he was locked in a supply closet when the teachers weren't looking and on Thursday the basketball team used him as target practice by throwing mass amounts of basketballs at him (whilst telling Adam that they though he wanted balls anyway, which Drew felt guilty about for finding just a little bit funny.) Drew felt bad about what was happening, but what made him feel worse was that if it had been any other person in school, Drew probably would have joined in. And although he bore the brunt of it, Adam wasn't the only one getting grief about the situation; on Tuesday morning Nicole greeted Drew with a slap on the face.

"You knew about this," she said before Drew could even make sense of what was going on. "You told me your weird sister was in therapy, you knew what was going on."

"Well obviously" Said Drew, rubbing his cheek.

"So you let me have private study sessions with that… that-"

"-And you're science grade went from a fail to a B," Drew interjected before Nicole could think of a cruel enough noun.

Nicole sighed and crossed her arms impatiently.

"I know it must really suck for you guys right now," she said, not looking at Drew. "But it doesn't make mean that I'm not mad at you. You let me study with someone who thinks they're a guy – I'm not comfortable with that, it's not natural."

Nicole tried to make eye contact with Drew, but Drew imagined that his indignant expression made it too hard for her. She continued.

"CosmoGirl says that if a guy violates your trust, then he isn't worth keeping around. You violated mine by leaving me alone with someone who has serious mental problems and not telling me about it."

Drew didn't like where this was all going.

"Nicole-"

"Don't talk to me okay?" Nicole said as she started to walk away. "I'll leave you and your sister alone, but that means you both need to stay away from me."

And true to her word, Nicole didn't speak to Drew or Adam for the rest of the week. It was now Friday and Drew was on the football field after school, waiting for practice to start.

He had been looking forward to this practice all week. Marc had gotten a 3-day suspension for fighting with Adam and Friday was his first day back at school, as well as his first day back at practice. Drew couldn't wait to have an excuse to knock him to the ground. Repeatedly.

But Marc never showed up. The rest of the team started to occupy the field, but Marc wasn't among them.

Drew tried to ignore the feeling of dread that started to fill him. Marc could've just been late, or maybe he had gotten a playing ban along with his suspension. Really, Drew had no reason to worry, right?

Coach Anderson noticed Marc's absence too and started to question where he was. He didn't have a playing ban. He wasn't late. Marc wasn't coming because he had somewhere else to be. Friday was the only day that Adam had to walk home from school alone.

"Coach, I have to go," Drew said as he started running back towards the school.

Drew ignored Coach Anderson's protests, he didn't bother going to the changing rooms to put on his regular clothes or pick up his belongings. He just ran home as fast as he could.

He didn't stop running until he got to the top of his street. He saw no sign of Marc or Adam. He made his way towards the house and hoped that Adam was in there, doing his homework in peace. As he approached he noticed something on the sidewalk.

It was a large red stain.

Drew felt ill. He sprinted to the door, also covered in red and darted into the house.

"Adam!" He shouted, praying for a response.

A quiet voice answered. It came from the couch.

"_Drew?"_

Drew hesitated for a moment, frightened of what he would find, before walking over to the couch.

Adam was lying down, a bag of frozen carrots on his face a large red stain matching the one outside was on the side of his torso.

"Adam!"

Drew felt himself fall to his knees, his head spinning with panic. He could hear a faint voice in his head repeating _"please be ok, I'll do anything, just please be ok."_

But then he heard another voice. This one belonged to Adam.

"_I didn't think you'd be home 'til five." _

Drew looked up to see Adam pulling himself into a sitting position, holding the bag up to his face. Drew sprung back on to his feet.

"Don't get up, you're injured." Drew said fretfully. Adam didn't seem to flinch from the injury to his side. He must have been in shock.

"What this?" Adam said, pulling the bag down to reveal the start of a black eye, "'tis but a scratch."

He _was _in shock. Drew tried to force him to lay down again.

"You lie down," He said as he flipped the carrots to the cold side before putting back over Adam's eye, "I need to find something to stop the bleeding."

Adam sat up once again, "Bleeding? You mean this?" He said pointing to the stain on his shirt. Adam began to laugh.

"Dude, this isn't blood. It's spray paint." Adam said, smiling. "Didn't you see it on the sidewalk outside?"

Drew said nothing, he was trying to process what was happening, but his mind was working so frantically that he couldn't make sense of anything.

Adam sighed.

"So, I was walking home from school and when I got home Marc was standing by the door," Adam started. "He had something in his hand. A spray can."

Drew instantly knew exactly what Marc was planning to do. Two years earlier, Kyle Powers reported Marc to the Principal for cheating on a math test. The next day after school, Kyle was found duct taped to his own front door with the word "NARC" spray-painted on his house. It had become Marc's calling card ever since.

"Is that what all of that red outside is?" Drew asked. "It's spray paint?"

"Of course it is dofus," Adam said teasingly.

Drew decided to ignore that last part and instead urged Adam to continue his story.

"So what happened," he asked.

"He made some _very _charming remarks, perfectly fit for a Neanderthal, and then he tried to knock me to the ground. I managed to get away and then he made the genius move of throwing the spray can at me – that's where this came from," Adam said, pointing to his eye. "He came at me again, so I picked up the can and started spraying it in front of me to try and ward him off, but he tried to walk thought it – you were right; Marc's an idiot! He was standing around choking on the fumes and I did what you taught me to do if I ever get into a fight."

"What did I teach you to do when you get into a fight?" Drew asked, he genuinely could not remember a single instance of giving Adam fighting tips.

"You remember, when I started high school. You said '_Gracie, if a guy ever gets in your face, you kick him in the nards as hard as you can, push him to the ground and run away_.' So I did."

Drew flinched involuntarily as he imagined being spray painted in the face and immediately being kicked in the groin, then he remembered that he hated Marc and began to laugh.

"Aw man," said Drew through tears of laughter, "you should've duct taped him to a tree or something. That would've been priceless."

"Are you kidding?" said Adam, who was also laughing, "I wasn't going anywhere near that psycho." But then his laugh stopped and his smile faded.

"He's never going to leave me alone, is he?"

Drew stopped laughing too. He knew that Adam was right. Sure, Marc was stopped this time, but what about next time, and the time after that? What if he came back with more people? Adam could outsmart Marc, but there was no way he could defend himself against a whole gang. Drew knew that there was only way they could guarantee Adam's safety.

"I think we're going to have to move."

.

oOo

.

"I've made a few calls," Dad said pacing around the dining room. "I can get a transfer to the Toronto firm with 4 weeks notice."

He joined the rest of the family around the dinner table. Adam's 2-day old black eye was being fretted over by Mom, who had the laptop in front of her.

"Toronto." She said, as she clicked on various web pages, "I spoke to Margot, about a place in Riverdale. I can ask her to put in an offer."

Mom took the phone off Dad and made her way to the kitchen. This was what the whole weekend had been, working out what the very uncertain future held for the Torres family. It was Sunday evening, and it seemed like only now was some progress actually being made.

Marc didn't come back to the house, but that didn't stop Mom from calling the police. They were very nice about the whole thing, but they didn't seem to actually do anything about it. Both Mom and Dad agreed with Drew that a move would be the best idea, and now it seemed that that move would be to Toronto. Mom came back from the kitchen a few minutes later.

"She's going to put in an offer for us," she said, sitting back at the table, massaging the side of her head. "We should look at schools."

Drew had already had a look at schools when he found out that Toronto was probably going to be their new home, and he already knew where he wanted to go.

"Now Drew, I know that you really want to go to Montgomery," Mom said. "But what about Adam?"

Montgomery Academy was a private school with an emphasis on sports. They had strong links with Banting, Haslet, Eastern and Toronto universities – Banting even had a number of sports scholarships exclusively available to Montgomery students. The only problem was that it was an all-boys school, and that meant that technically Adam wouldn't be allowed to go.

"It's cool," Adam shrugged. "I wouldn't want to go to a school entirely populated by jocks. Besides – any school that has a uniform is a deal-breaker!"

Mom worked on the laptop again.

"How about a community school?" She said, "There's one in Riverdale – Degrassi, I think."

"Community school might be a good idea," Dad added. "They tend to have very good support networks."

"Found it – Degrassi." Mom said triumphantly, reading their website. "Degrassi Community School is a modern, progressive high school accommodating students grade 9-12 in the residential area of Riverdale."

"Let me see" Adam said, tilting the computer towards him. He began to read to himself, he face lighting up the more he read.

"This sound great," Adam said, "They've got everything you would need from a school."

"Do they have a football team?" Drew asked out of curiosity, maybe he and Adam could hang out after their teams played each other.

"They do, the Panthers." Adam said, "They're pretty new actually, this is the end of their 2nd season. Here's a photograph."

Adam turned the laptop around so that Drew could see, the Panthers wore blue and yellow and were currently "between coaches". They also had a girl as their wide receiver. Drew felt pretty confident that Montgomery would have no problem beating them. He pulled a face.

"I'm not going to school for the sports any," Adam said, "They have an award-winning science team and a state-of-the-art computer lab."

Drew didn't respond; science and computers sounded boring to him, but it was perfect for Adam, who, alternatively, would hate the sports-heavy curriculum offered at Montgomery. They had both found the perfect schools, but they were different schools. Drew wasn't sure how he felt about being separated from Adam, especially after everything that had happened. Adam continued looking up information on Degrassi.

"It says that they have a 'zero-tolerance stance on bullying' and 'have taken action to ensure preventative measures considering the school's history'… what history?"

Adam went quiet as he began to type, Mom was looking over his shoulder cautiously.

"They had a school shooting a few years ago," Adam said, staring at the screen in shock "A student was bullied so much that he just snapped one day and brought a gun to school. A kid got paralysed."

"Maybe that's a good thing." Drew said, trying to help. Everyone at the table looked at him as if he had truly lost his mind.

"Yeah, it sounds magnificent!" Adam said sarcastically, "I don't really want someone at school to shoot me, Drew."

"Sweetheart, no one at school it going to shoot you." Mom chirped in, putting her arms around Adam's shoulders and giving Drew a stare that could easily kill someone.

"No hear me out," Drew said. "You know like how they say that after a terror threat is the safest time to fly? Think about it; a school that had something like that happen is going to go above and beyond to make sure that nothing similar ever happens again."

Mom pondered this for a moment.

"I think," she said, "I think you may have a very good point. But I'm not sending either of you boys anywhere without checking out these schools in person."

"Ok, deal." Adam said.

"Deal." Drew concurred.

"Alright." Mom said, standing up. "Toronto it is then."

.

oOo

.

_Ahh, we're so close to Degrassi, I can almost taste it!_

_- Yeah Mrs. Torres, there's absolutely no way Adam is ever going to get shot going to Degrassi, none whatsoever…*_

_- According to wikipedia, CosmoGirl stop being published in 2008 – I guess Nicole's been reading the back issues?_

_- Fun fact: Riverdale, Toronto has a street called De Grassi Street – coincidence? _

_- Yeah Adam, there's absolutely no way you're ever going to have to wear a uniform going to Degrassi, none whatsoever…*_

_*clearly dramatic irony is genetic._

_- The next Chapter is called "Whatever it Takes" – I wonder what that could be referring to…_


	12. Whatever it Takes

_Finally a chapter that contains Degrassi characters other than the Torres Brothers! Who would've thought we ever see this day?_

_This chapter overran a little bit – so apologies for it being so long!_

_Warning: There is sport talk in this chapter. It may be horribly inaccurate – the sportiest I got as a kid was enjoying the Mighty Ducks movies…_

.

oOo

.

Chapter 12 – Whatever it Takes

Montgomery Academy was everything Drew could ask for in a school. It's walls were barely visible behind the sea of trophies the school had accumulated over the years, his old school could fit in the area that was occupied by pitches maybe 3 or 4 times over, each dorm room had its own computer and was occupied by guys who could spend days on end talking about any sport you could think of. Drew was initially concerned by the lack of teenage girls, but this fear was soon quelled when he found out that Montgomery shipped in cheerleaders from the local all-girl's school to support them during games. The female absence in between would probably be beneficial to his grade level too.

Principal Davis led the tour. He was the kind of adult that Drew wanted to be; energetic, ambitious and football crazy. He introduced Drew to Coach Nowak, who ran his team like a Drill Sergeant; failure was not an option for this man – Drew couldn't wait to try out for his team.

Adam was less impressed; the OS that the dorm computers used was apparently "severely outdated", they had a poor record in the Toronto Scholastic Decathlon, and their school newspaper was less of a paper and more of a newsletter with the most recent team league tables, but Drew didn't care; it wasn't Adam's school.

Degrassi Community School had its fair share of hot girls, not excluding Mrs. Hatzilakos, the hottest Principal Drew had ever seen. Sadly she was leaving Degrassi at the end of the school year and being replaced by Mr. Simpson, who wasn't Drew's type, but seemed like a pretty cool guy.

They were both incredibly understanding about Adam's "special circumstances" though, and respected the fact that he wanted to stay under the radar and not have attention drawn to himself.

The sports situation, however, seemed pretty dire. The basketball coach had just been fired and was being replaced by a math teacher. The same math teacher was also coaching the football team, whose star player was a goth chick called "Jane". Drew knew instantly that Degrassi wasn't the school for him at all.

Adam on the other hand loved it. He was instantly impressed by the media lab, a room that Mr Simpson seemed particularly proud of. Degrassi was also in the process of developing its own radio station, which seemed to really appeal to him. Drew wondered why a school would spend so much money on a radio station when they have to use a math teacher to coach all the sports teams.

They headed back their new home after the Degrassi tour. Drew still had a few things to unpack in his new room, but he was holding out. Principal Davis had made the offer to Drew that he could spend the last three weeks of semester at Montgomery to see how he liked it before he committed to going. Drew was all for it, but Mom wasn't sure.

"I just think that after everything that's happened, it would be nice if we could all spend some quality time together." She said as she nudged Drew's unpacked clothes towards his closet. "We're hardly going to see you after the summer."

"Mom, I'll be home in October for Thanksgiving," Drew explained, "and then again at Christmas, you'll hardly even notice I'm gone."

But Mom wasn't convinced.

"What about your sister?"

Drew felt a pang of sadness. Hearing someone say "Gracie" didn't bother him, but when he heard the word "sister" it hurt. He could accept that Gracie was Adam now, but he still found it hard to accept that he didn't have a sister anymore.

"_Adam _will be fine without me, Mom." Drew said, trying to push his sadness to one side, "you saw how excited he was about the fancy computers and all that other nerdy Degrassi stuff. They're cool about letting a girl play on their football team, - that would never go down at our old school. The Degrassi kids seem like accepting people."

"I hope so," said Mom, playing with her necklace nervously. She sighed.

"If you really want to give Montgomery a try before you start proper next year, I guess I can't stop you."

"Thanks Mom, you're the best," Drew said hugging her. He suddenly noticed how much taller he was than her and wondered how long it had been that way.

"Ok," she said, letting go of him and fixing her hair. "I'd better call Principal Davis and let him know to make room for Montgomery's new star Quarter Back. You should start packing"

Mom smiled at Drew and then left him to work through his unpacked boxes to see what he'd need to take with him. It was mostly clothes that were left, but there was one box in particular that he was hesitant to unpack. It was the box for his old television, but the contents currently inside were much more valuable than some old TV. Drew hadn't quite figured out what he wanted to do with the TV box, but now that he was sure that he going to go to Montgomery, he had a pretty good idea what to do with what was inside.

.

oOo

.

Adam's door was ajar, but Drew knocked anyway, just to be safe.

"It's open," Adam said, not taking his eyes of the comic book he was engrossed in.

Drew entered Adam's bedroom, which already looked thoroughly lived-in. No boxes still to unpack, of course, Adam had a lot less stuff than Drew – most of Gracie's things were currently lying in a dumpster somewhere. Adam finally took his eyes of the comic and smiled at Drew.

"Hey. What's with the box? Do you still need a hand unpacking?"

Drew sat on the bed beside Adam, holding the TV box in his hands.

"I've just been talking to Mom," Drew said. "She says that I can spend the last 3 weeks of semester at Montgomery."

"That's great, bro," Adam said, "You must really like the place if you're choosing to go to school over an extra three-weeks of summer!" He seemed to genuinely mean it too. Drew was worried that Adam wouldn't want to be left alone, but his positive reaction seemed to prove otherwise.

"Yeah," Drew sighed. "So I won't be here again until summer starts."

"Which is less than a month away," Adam said. "You'll be having way too much fun getting pushed into the mud by 300lb seniors to even think about getting homesick.

"But what about after that Adam?" Drew said, hoping that Adam would take him more seriously. "I'm not going to be around next year and you're going to be on your own at a new school. What if something happens?"

"If anything happens, I can handle it myself," said Adam. "I mean, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't at least a little apprehensive, but I don't plan to go around with a big "punch me" sign around my neck."

"But I'll miss you," Drew blurted out. "I'm going to miss not seeing you every day, and I want to give you something – to let you know that I'm thinking of you."

Adam's eyes darted to the box Drew was holding.

"This?" Adam said, pointing to the box. Drew handed it over.

"It's all yours."

Adam took the box and opened it apprehensively, he pulled open the bubble wrap (which, in hindsight Drew thought, wasn't really a necessary addition). Adam paused when he saw what was inside.

"You're giving me your old teddy bear?" Adam said, Drew wasn't sure if Adam was touched or amused.

"Uh, first of all Koala's aren't bears they're marsupials." Drew added defensively. "And secondly, this is no mere toy. This is Mr. Koala; loyal mascot and cabin boy extraordinaire."

Adam pulled a face, but still took Mr. Koala out his box and examined him. Years of outdoor adventures had left him in less-than pristine condition; his fur was matted in places, his ears weren't quite as perky and fluffy as they once were and one of his velvet claws was missing, but he was still perfect. Adam failed to resist a smile.

"Thanks dude," he said, sitting Mr. Koala between them. "I wish I had something to give you back."

Suddenly, Adam's eyes went wide. "Actually, I think I do."

Adam rolled off the bed and opened his closet door.

"I totally forgot that I had this," he said as he frantically raked the top shelf. "And then when we were getting ready to move, I found it in a shoebox. I couldn't believe I still had it!"

Adam emerged from the closet holding a red cotton scarf. Drew knew instantly what it was.

"Cap'n Gary's bandana?" Drew said, walking over to Adam, taking the scarf from him and instantly tying around his head like a ninja.

"How do I look Adam-san?" He said, adopting a crane pose.

Adam laughed, "you look ridiculous – so nothing different from normal."

"Hey!" Drew said, mock-offended. "No one insults Kung-Fu Drew and get away with it." He pretended to karate chop Adam and went to grab his little brother and put him into a fireman's carry.

"Argh, dude. Put me down." Adam said, still laughing, legs kicking in the air.

Drew carefully threw Adam on the bed and went to sit down beside him.

"This is really cool," Drew said, pulling the scarf off his head and clutching it in his hands, "thank you."

"My Dad gave me that," said Adam, rearranging himself so that he was sitting upright. "He said it was my little red riding hood."

Drew mussed Adam's hair. Adam's biological Dad wasn't cool like Drew's Dad was, and Drew imagined that he'd take Adam's big news very badly.

"I'm sorry that I bailed on you when you told me you were Adam." Drew said, thinking about his own bad reaction to the news.

"It's cool, I'm sorry for not listening to you about Marc." Adam added, as if trying to make Drew feel better.

"Well I'm sorry for not taking better care of you at school."

"And I'm sorry for trying to get you to pick sides at the mall when Mom and I were arguing."

"I'm sorry for being hungover that day"

"I'm sorry for- wait, you were hungover?"

"I may have had Marc and Nicole over for some beers the night before," Drew said sheepishly.

Adam cackled, "Mom and I were yelling a _lot _that day, weren't we?"

"Oh yeah," Drew sighed. "Trust me, it hurt me more that it hurt you!"

Drew and Adam both laughed for a long time after that. They reminisced about the adventures they had when they were children, about the games they used to play during lunchtime at elementary school, about how Drew, dressed as Superman, would lie on the floor and use his feet to lift Adam, dressed as Batman, so that it looked as if he were flying even though Batman can't fly. They talked about a whole manner of things until they heard Dad get up for a shower and realised that it was morning and they had talked all night.

"Wow," said Drew looking at his watch. "It's Sunday – I start school tomorrow!"

Adam yawned. "How long do you think it will take you to pack?"

"Uh, about 25 seconds?" Drew replied.

"Do you want to play some rock band or something?"

Drew looked at Adam, he looked as if he was struggling to keep his head upright, he had dark circles under his eyes, which complimented his fading black eye to a tee. Adam needed to sleep. Drew needed to sleep. He had a big day ahead of him tomorrow, he'd need to regain his energy.

But this was the last day he'd get to spend with his brother until summer came.

"Sure, bro. I'll get my drumsticks."

.

oOo

.

On Monday morning, Drew was greeted by his two new dorm mates. Tyrone was a 6-and-a-half foot lacrosse player, he wore big plastic frame glasses and, in true Canadian form, said "eh" at the end of all his sentences. Drew had never met anyone who did that in real life, and he found it to be quite amusing. Liam was smaller and skinner than both Tyrone and Drew, and his teeth were obscured by red-and-silver braces (in honor of Toronto FC). Liam was soccer crazy and played as the striker for the school team. They made Drew feel really welcome at Montgomery.

"You wouldn't believe how much we need a new QB," Liam said, flashing his braces with every word he spoke. "So many of our star players are graduating this year. I'm lined up to be soccer captain after the summer."

"Grade eleven's going to be our year, eh?" Tyrone chirped in as he helped Drew put his things on his new bed. Drew looked over at Liam's bed and saw that he had a picture framed on his bedside table. In it, Liam had his arm over a very pretty blonde.

"You must miss your girlfriend when you're here," Drew said, pointing to the picture.

"Oh no, that's not my girlfriend, that's my big sister." Liam said, laughing.

"Sorry dude." Drew said quickly, he didn't want to mess up his friendship with his roommates before it even began.

"It's cool," Liam shrugged. "Just as long as you don't try and date her, or I'd have to kick your ass."

"No problem," said Drew, relieved. "I'd do the same if it were _my_sister."

"You have a sister?" Tyrone asked.

Crap. "Uh, no. But hypothetically, I would," said Drew quickly. "I have a kid brother though. Adam."

"Not a sport nut, huh?" Liam said, helping Drew hang up his clothes.

"Not even a little bit," Drew said. "Unless you count playing 'Street Fighter' as a sport."

"Sounds like my little brother, eh?" Tyrone said.

"Do you miss them?" Drew asked. "Not being with your siblings, is it hard?"

"At first, but you get used to it," Liam said. "My sister goes to an all-girls school, so at least I don't have to worry about other guys giving her trouble."

"Yeah, that would suck," said Drew flatly. He may not have had a sister anymore, but the thought of leaving Adam alone with other guys was still a frightening one to Drew.

Before he could invent any more ways to worry about Adam, Drew's train of though was interrupted by a knock at the door. A senior in a football uniform came in.

"Drew Torres?" He asked, nodding in Drew's direction.

"That's me." Drew replied, putting down the clothes he was supposed to be folding.

"You ready to play some football?"

.

oOo

.

Coach Nowak ran a tight ship. By the time break came in practice, Drew was ready to lie down and sleep for a week. But he was only halfway through practice, and Coach Nowak hadn't even tried him out in QB position yet.

"Torres!" Coach Nowak yelled as Drew was drinking water and desperately trying to get his breath back.

"Yeah Coach?" Drew said as he ran over to Nowak.

"I run a hard practice here, most new kids can't keep up." Said Nowak gruffly, "but you're doing a damn good job. I'm impressed."

"Thanks Coach."

"I'm putting you in QB for the second half of practice today," Nowak continued. "Make me proud."

Drew nodded enthusiastically and put his helmet back on. He was going to prove himself. After everything that had happened over the past few months, he need this.

Drew never pushed himself so hard during a practice before, he couldn't even feel the pain, the adrenaline had hit him so hard that he felt like he could do anything. Every so often he would sneak a glance at Coach Nowak to see if he looked impressed. Drew felt like he had done enough, he _had_ to get on this team.

Nowak's whistle signalled the end of practice and Drew was exhausted, but he didn't want it to end. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so invigorated. Football was the only thing in the world that could give Drew that high.

Coach called Drew over to him at the end of practice.

"You played a good game out there Torres," Nowak said. "Keep it up, and there's definitely a spot open for you on the team next year."

"Really?" said Drew, still breathless from the practice.

"Just give me more of what you showed me today and you might just be looking at QB1." Nowak continued. "We're going to need a strong Quarter Back against Degrassi next year."

"Degrassi?" Drew repeated, "as in… Degrassi?"

"They're a new team, but they've got some real talent. Especially their QB, Riley Stavros; you heard of him?"

Drew hadn't, but he suddenly wanted to know everything about this guy – especially is he was worrying Coach Nowak.

"He's good," Nowak said. "Scholarship good. But with some practice, you could be better. Now go - hit the showers."

And with that Drew headed back to the changing room, trying to think about how he was going to win the championship for Montgomery, but all the while worrying that Degrassi was going to take it away.

.

oOo

.

**_Staying at Montgomery_**

_Pros_

_Everyone likes sports as much as I do._

_Coach Nowak is insanely tough._

_No girls = no girl drama/no commitment (possibly better grades/less distraction)._

_Mom doesn't nag me all the time_

_I can play football everyday – for an awesome team._

_Cons_

_I don't get my own room._

_No girls = no hooking up._

_Mom isn't there to do my laundry._

_Tyrone's "eh's" are starting to annoy me._

_I may have to hook up with Liam's sister when she comes to visit. This would make things awkward between Liam and I._

_Degrassi might kick our asses next year if this Stavros guy is as good as they say._

Drew looked over his list. He had been so psyched about going to Montgomery, but now that he was here, he started to think more and more about Degrassi. He had looked up their league performance for the 2009/2010 year and it turned out that despite starting out the year roughly (their Principal was coaching and was apparently doing a pretty poor job) they had gotten a lot better. And in their last few games they had gotten really, _really_ good.

But Drew knew he was lying to himself if he said that football was the main reason that he was reconsidering Degrassi, there was a bigger 'con' to going to Montgomery. Drew sighed as he added it to his list

_I can't go to school without Adam._

He hated to admit it, but Drew needed Adam as much as Adam needed him. Adam was to only person who could make chemistry make sense, he was the only person who knew Drew well enough to be able to talk him out of doing something stupid. And, even more basic than that, Drew_ missed_ Adam.

More importantly, what if something happened to Adam? How could Drew ever forgive himself? Sure, Degrassi seemed like a nice school, but Drew thought that his old school was nice too, and look what happened there. But nobody would ever mess with the brother of the school's star QB. No one would dare – he wouldn't let them.

Drew crumpled his list into a ball and threw it in the wastepaper basket. He knew what he had to do.

He knew he had to go to Degrassi and protect Adam. Whatever it took.

.

oOo

.

_- Jane on the football is a big deal to Drew – I think they would have gotten along well had they gone to Degrassi at the same time._

_- Kung-Fu Drew was Karate Drew until I realised that I was missing a golden opportunity for an awesome nickname!_

_- As well as having Armstrong teach math whilst coaching the basketball and football teams, Degrassi also has Ms. Dawes teaching english, art and drama (plus LARPing...) That school should really spend less money on a radio station and maybe focus on hiring more faculty members!_

_- Drew has been building up his good guy points in the last few chapters – and that's because he's just about to meet Riley and instantly lose them all! _


	13. The Shortest Summer

_So… it's been a while. I blame Santa. _

_Here's the last chapter of 2011_

oOo

Chapter 13 - The Shortest Summer

"Explain to me again why you all of a sudden decided to transfer to Degrassi?

"I told you Adam, there's a lot of really good buzz about Degrassi's football team. I want a piece of that."

Drew and Adam were in the kitchen washing up after Drew's welcome home dinner. Adam wasn't as pleased to hear that Drew wasn't going to Montgomery as Drew had expected.

"You sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the lack of girls at Montgomery?" Adam deadpanned as he dried a bowl.

"Well…" Drew shrugged, he was happy for Adam to accept that Drew was going to Degrassi for the chicks, he imagined that Adam would be less enthused to hear the real reason; that Drew was back to protect his little brother.

"You know, if you spent half as much time on schoolwork as you do on sports and girls you might actually get good grades." Adam said dryly.

"Gee, thanks Dad," Drew retorted. "What's you're problem anyway; I thought you'd be happy that we're going to the same school."

"I don't have a problem." Adam lied.

"Then why are you acting like this?"

"Because I wanted to stay under the radar," Adam shouted. "And I can't if you're around."

Drew stood silent for a moment. Adam thought that _Drew _was going to be the one drawing unwanted attention? Drew looked at the boy who was once his little sister; how in the world did he think that Drew would be the one causing controversy?

"It's just… I was always Drew's Little Sister," Adam said before Drew had a chance to ask. "The cute girls in my class would ask for our phone number so that they could call you, then they'd ask me what they had to do to impress you when you didn't call them back. Do you have any idea how much that sucks?"

"I guess that would kind of suck," Drew said sheepishly.

"Well I'm not doing it again," Adam said crossing his arms. "I'm not your girlfriend agent."

"Fine."

"Good."

Drew and Adam continued to wash the dishes in silence. Drew couldn't help but notice that Adam seemed to be drying more thoroughly than needed; he was still annoyed.

"So what do I do," Drew asked smirking. "Be less handsome? Stop being awesome?"

"Just stay away from the girls in my grade, Casanova," Adam said, Drew was glad to see that Adam was smiling too.

"As long as _you_ stay away from the girls in _my _grade," Drew joked. "I don't need anymore competition."

"You got that right," Adam said, grinning. "If you think that you're small town jock act is going to work on Toronto girls, then you'll need all the help you can get!"

.

oOo

.

Drew had his plan all worked out. He had six weeks before school started. Six weeks to establish himself as the Cool New Kid. He had devised a week-by-week list of steps he would need to take in order to make his plan possible.

Week One: Go to The Dot. Buy cool looking people their drinks.

Drew had established The Dot as the place to be for Degrassi students on vacation. He would casually go there one day on the first week of summer and wait until he found a fellow Degrassian. Drew would introduce himself as the new transfer student and buy a drink for his new ally. It would be preferable if said ally was an attractive girl, but Drew wasn't in a position to be picky; anyone remotely cool looking would do.

However, Drew's plan was quickly diverted when The Dot caught fire on the last of day of school before summer. Apparently some new waitress tried to use a faulty sandwich maker and the whole place blew up. Drew was pretty sure the waitress somehow did it just to spite him.

Drew would have to find a new way to meet people. In the meantime he was happy to play the new Metal Gear with Adam.

oOo

Week Two: Get invited to Above the Dot by new friends. Make out with hot girl; establish self as alpha-male 

(_note: Avoid grade 10 girls – Adam will kill me!)_

The fire at The Dot foiled this part of the plan as Above the Dot was, well, above The Dot.

Drew eventually found another place in town that was popular with teenagers, a new restaurant called Little Miss Steaks. Drew wasn't sure why a restaurant was a popular haunt amongst high school kids – especially one with such a cheesy name – but he was willing to try it out if it meant getting to know new people.

He was going to go on the Wednesday night – it was live band night and Drew was pretty confident that he'd see the most Degrassi kids then. Besides, it's weird to show up to a restaurant alone, but if it's to see a band play, nobody raises an eyebrow.

But he and Adam were doing really well on Metal Gear and Drew didn't want to get out of practice. He was so close to getting the "Monster Hunter" achievement.

Little Miss Steaks could wait until week three.

oOo

Week Three: Go to ravine. Get to second base

_(note: buy bracelets – work out what each color means)_

Drew was hoping to get to know a girl a little bit before heading to the ravine – a place apparently famous for its underage drinking and late-night parties. But if what Drew had heard about the ravine was true, he wouldn't have to know a girl for very long before sneaking off with her for some private time (just as long as she wasn't in Grade 10, as promised.) The ravine kids apparently had a bracelet system; a different color meant a different act. Drew wasn't sure what all the different colors meant, but he _did_ know where to get the bracelets from.

"Later bro," Drew called to Adam as he was heading out the door. "I've got to get to the mall."

Adam chased Drew before he could shut the door.

"Hey, can I come?" Adam asked. "The Greenday Rock Band just came out and I was going to get it after we finished getting all the Metal Gear achievements, but if you're going out anyway…"

Drew shuffled awkwardly. How was he supposed to explain to his baby brother why he was in the dollar store buying dozens of colored elastic bracelets?

But then again, how was Drew supposed to explain why he didn't want Adam to come?

As it turned out, Greenday Rock Band had the full version of Jesus of Suburbia and came with a set of limited edition drum sticks. Drew went halves with Adam on the game, he was too cool to use dumb bracelets anyway. He'd use his own charm to get girls before school started.

oOo

Week Four: Set up a "friendly" football game in park. Show off mad QB skills.

_(note: try and invite Riley Stavros and see if he's as good as they say)_

It was the hottest week of summer so far. Drew guessed that most kids would be in the park. Drew decided that it was a prime opportunity to establish himself as an awesome football player. He also deiced that this would be an excellent excuse to run around shirtless; girls seemed to like that.

But above all, this served as a great excuse to work out Stavros. Ever since Coach Nowak had mentioned that there may be a better QB than him, Drew was determined to eye up his competition.

He picked up his ball from his room, put on his least awkward to remove shirt and grabbed his empty water bottle to fill up in the kitchen, ready to show Degrassi what he could do.

But when he got into the kitchen, someone else was using the sink.

"Hey," Adam said, grinning. "It's too hot to play Rock Band, so I got the super soakers out. You wanna have a water war?"

Drew decided to tell himself that he _let _Adam win.

oOo

Week Five: Invite some cool people over for a house party. Establish self as epic party thrower.

_(note: two words – naked twister)_

Drew wasn't sure how this part of the plan was supposed to work, as he hadn't actually _met _any new people yet, let alone got to know anyone well enough to establish who was cool enough to invite to his house for a party.

The Dot had repaired all the fire damage and would be opening up again at the end of the week, Drew could always start his week one plan there, and move though his list a little bit quicker than anticipated, but would that be weird? Could he really expect to be invited to Above the Dot after knowing someone for a few hours? When would he find the time to buy bracelets? How close was he to getting a 5 star rating on "Hitchin' a Ride?"

He'd only really have the last of week of summer to get to meet new people before school started. Drew would have to really turn on the charm to establish himself as the Cool New Kid.

Week six would have to be spent covering the whole list day-by-day. It wouldn't be easy, but Drew knew that popularity took hard work.

oOo

Week Six: Bask in new found popularity.

_(note: make sure that any hook-up's are over before school starts – it may be a good idea to get any bracelets back)_

Drew took Adam to see Inception. Mom yelled at them for trying to reenact the spinning fight scene in the hallway.

oOo

Drew looked over his list in his room. School started on Monday; summer was over and Drew was going to have to go to Degrassi as the completely new kid after all.

He had no idea where his summer had gone to, but he did know that it was the best one he had ever had.

.

oOo

.

_- From the next chapter onwards, there will be dialogue that actually appeared in the show – this can't be avoided really, but I will give a note of which episodes the dialogue came from. _

_- My older sister was a model in high school. I got asked countless times for our home number by the boys in my class – so that they could call her. (I also used to get "You and your sister look so different; she's soo pretty!") I can sympathize with Adam here!_

_- Super soakers are awesome. Period._


	14. Bhandari 2010

_From this point on, some dialogue in the chapters will be actual lines from Degrassi: The Next Generation. This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episodes "What a Girl Wants (1)" and "Breakaway (1)."_

.

oOo

.

Chapter 14 - Bhandari 2010

Drew got up earlier than he usually would for the first day of school, but this wasn't any old first day; it was his first day at _Degrassi, _and this year he wasn't Drew Torres: the football star, he was Drew Torres: the new kid.

Unfortunately this did little to help him get ready any faster as Adam had also gotten up early, and had decided to hog the bathroom.

"C'mon, dude," Drew said, knocking on the door. "Other people have to get ready too."

"Five more minutes," Adam said. He had said the same thing ten minutes ago.

Drew got it, he supposed. Drew only had to worry about being the new kid; Adam had to worry about being the new kid with a secret, it couldn't have been easy. But Drew had places to be and hair to gel. Adam wore a hat all the time; what could possibly be taking so long?

Tired of waiting, Drew shuffled down the stairs and helped himself to a bowl of cereal. Mom was sitting at the table, staring at a wall and nursing a cup of coffee.

"Is she still in the bathroom?" Mom said, breaking her distant stare to look at Drew.

"He'll be five more minutes," Drew said between spoonfuls, "so, like, a half hour."

Mom smiled, she looked so tired. Drew wondered if she had gotten any sleep at all.

"Everything's going to be great today," said Drew reassuringly, "I can tell."

Mom nodded, "I hope so. I just don't want to get any phone calls from the Principal."

"That's a shame," Drew sighed, finishing he breakfast. "Because I hear I'm a shoo-in for Student of the Year, there's a sash and everything."

Mom failed to resist a smile. Drew grinned too as he heard Adam come down the stairs.

"When you two are done with your little sewing circle – the bathroom's free."

Adam had finally finished getting ready and had made his way to the kitchen. He took Drew's seat as Drew ran up to quickly get ready. He had a lot to do before school started.

Even though his summer plans for popularity had amounted to nothing, Drew still wanted to pay The Dot a visit before school started, he had heard good things about it, and there was always the off chance that he'd meet someone from school. He finished getting ready, wished Adam luck on his first day and left the house geared up to start his first day as a Degrassi student.

.

oOo

.

The Dot looked surprisingly busy, even from the end of the street Drew could see a steady stream of people coming in and out. He realized that he'd have no way of identifying if any of the patrons were his fellow students, not unless one of them wanted to announce themselves.

And, as Drew made his way to the entrance, that's exactly what happened.

"-It's gonna be a lonely place back at Degrassi" a voice from the counter announced.

Drew made his way into the café as the Degrassi student ordered a double espresso. Drew tried to work out what he should say to this guy. He looked cool enough, but what was Drew supposed to do – introduce himself? Say "hi, I'm Drew. Will you be my friend?" This guy probably had plenty of friends already without being hassled by the new kid.

"There's got to be some new people you can hang out with this year." Said the waiter serving Drew's _new best friend_. This was going surprisingly well. Drew casually made his way to the counter beside his future buddy.

"Man - all our friends graduated." The Degrassi kid sighed, "The band is dead, I got no girlfriend."

Drew made his move.

"-And I'll have a large double double - once you two ladies are done with your sewing circle." He said confidently. Granted, he had no idea what a sewing circle was, but Adam had said it and Adam was witty, so surely saying it made Drew witty too,

"Who's this guy?" Asked the waiter, gesturing toward Drew.

"A future regular customer," said Drew in a manner he hoped was self-assured, "I just transferred to the school down the street."

Drew's fellow student seemed to become more alert to Drew once he had said this.

"Oh, there'll be _tons _of cool people at Degrassi." He said in a tone Drew wasn't too sure was sarcastic or not.

"Oh, wait," Drew said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "You go there?"

The Degrassi guy nodded and turned back to the waiter to pay for his double espresso. Drew stopped him.

"I got you," he said, giving the waiter enough money for both of the drinks. The Degrassi guy nodded approvingly. Drew couldn't have planned it better if he had made a step-by-step list. Which he had.

"Thanks." Said Drew's first friend at Degrassi. Drew decided to introduce himself.

"I'm Drew."

"Hey – Sav."

Sav took Drew's hand and shook it. Drew knew he had made an excellent first impression and decided to leave on a high note.

"See you at school, bro." Drew said as he made his way out the door and towards his new school. He had made a new friend and he hadn't even been assigned a locker yet.

This was going to be a good year. Drew could feel it.

.

oOo

.

It was going to a crappy year.

Drew's very first class on his very first day at his new school was math. Drew hated math. Drew wasn't good at math. Drew didn't have time for math.

That's why he was still in grade 10 math. Along with Adam.

They were sitting together at the back of the class when Mr. Armstrong, who Drew remembered was also the football team's coach and made a mental note to not goof around in front of, introduced them both.

"Class, we have two new students joining us this year." He said, causing everyone to turn around to stare at the fresh meat. "Meet Drew and Adam Torres."

Adam nodded. Drew tried to wave casually, but couldn't hide the fact that this was the most horrifying way to be introduced to a new school; sitting next to your little brother in a class you should have passed a year ago.

A blond girl in the front row raised her hand.

"Yes, Jenna?" Armstrong asked.

"Which one's Drew and which one's Adam."

Everyone turned back around to stare again. Drew looked over to Adam, urging him to answer. Adam did the same thing to Drew.

"I'm Drew, that's Adam." Drew mumbled. They'd only been in the classroom for five minutes but it felt more like five years.

"Are you twins?" Jenna continued, "you don't look like twins."

Drew shuffled in his seat, he knew where this was going.

"Uh, no, we're not," he said, barely audible to the class. "We're step-brothers."

"Oh, so that's why you're in the same grade then." Jenna said nodding.

Drew sank a little further into his seat. He could feel Adam moving further and further away from him.

"No," Drew said reluctantly, "I'm a junior. Math isn't really my thing."

There. It was out in the open. Now everyone could turn around.

But _Jenna_ wasn't finished. She looked over at Adam, who had managed to move 3 feet further away from Drew since Armstrong had introduced them

"Wait, so are _you_ in Grade 10?" She asked, looking at Adam.

Adam cleared his throat.

"Yeah," he said, shrugging.

Jenna squinted. Drew had made his first enemy at Degrassi and it was only first period.

"Really?" she said, "you don't _look_ like you're in Grade 10."

Adam's eyes widened. Drew pulled himself back up in his seat.

"Look. He's in 10th grade, I'm in 11th, we're step-brothers and I don't like math. Are we all caught up? Great, let's do some algebra."

Jenna pulled a sheepish face and turned herself back around to face the front, as did everybody else. Adam put his hand over the side of his face and turned away from Drew.

"Hey," Drew whispered as Adam tried to ignore him, "at least one good thing will come out of this."

"What?" Adam hissed, still not looking at Drew.

"After that, none of the grade ten girls will ever see me as a viable candidate again."

.

oOo

.

Adam spent the rest of the day avoiding Drew, even at dinner when Mom asked how their first day went, Adam spent the whole time giving Drew the death stare.

"It was great," Adam said, glaring at his brother, "the computer lab has bouncy balls instead of chairs."

Adam repeatedly stabbed his baked potato with his fork. Drew imagined that Adam was pretending that it was him.

Mom didn't seem to notice the tension.

"Really?" She said, amused. "How was your day Drew? Anything interesting happen."

Adam twisted the fork into his potato.

"It was fine," Drew said, "I made a friends with a senior at the Dot – Sav."

"And you made a _great_ impression on the tenners," Adam said, angrily chewing on some broccoli.

"Blondie started it!" Drew said, defensively.

"Wait, wait," Mom said. "Did something bad happen today?"

"No!" Drew and Adam angrily shouted in unison.

The rest of the meal was spent in silence, as Adam turned his baked potato into a mashed one.

.

oOo

.

Adam finally started to talk to Drew again in the car ride to school the next morning. Apparently they were already old news.

"Some tenners made a ranking of all the girls at Degrassi," Adam explained, smirking. "Some of them are _not_ pleased."

"Is Jenna ranked low?" Drew asked, "Because that would be hilarious."

They laughed as Mom dropped them off in the parking lot. It was good to be friends with Adam again, Drew didn't really have anyone else at Degrassi to talk to.

"Listen," Adam said as they walked through the parking lot, "if you ever need math help, you know that I can always-"

But Drew cut him off. Sav from the Dot was standing in the parking lot talking to a snooty looking redhead. Drew didn't get the chance to see him in school on Monday, but he had a chance now.

"Sorry bro, I've gotta run," he said, patting Adam on the shoulder, "see you at lunch?"

"Sure." Adam said shrugging.

Drew walked briskly over to Sav and the redhead, she didn't seem particularly pleased about something.

"Nobody's running against me." She said shrilly as Drew approached.

"Sav, my man," Drew said, hoping that Sav remembered him "what's up?"

Drew looked at the redhead, she was cute, but even through her giant sunglasses, Drew could tell that she was glaring at him.

"Who's this?" Drew asked Sav.

The girl scoffed as Sav raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, this is my competition for student council president." He said, nodding at the girl who was gawking in disbelief.

"What?" She said irately.

Drew ignored her anger. Sav was the only person who Drew had really met at Degrassi and he was running for student council president; the biggest symbol of popularity a school could bestow. If Drew was friends with the school president, he was certain to be seen as one of the popular kids.

"You're running?" Drew said excitedly, "cool."

Drew walked away before the redhead could glare at him some more and decided to make his plans for how he was going to help Sav become the school's new president. There was just one problem; Drew knew nothing about politics.

Luckily he knew someone who did.

.

oOo

.

"Hey buddy," Drew said as he sat beside Adam at lunch. "How's your day going?"

"What do you want?" Adam said, twisting open the bottle cap on his water.

"Why can't I just be interested in your day?" Drew said, trying to look innocent.

Adam glared at his from under his hat. Drew sighed.

"Fine. Sav is running for student council president and I want to help him win."

"And I can help you with that _how_?" Adam asked.

"You're dad's a politician dude," Drew said, "you must have learned something from him."

"He's an MLA-"

"-Yeah, a politician. He campaigns, people vote for him. I want to help Sav to do what your dad does, you know, minus the being a jerk part."

Adam clenched his jaw.

"My dad's not a j-"

"-I was kidding about the last part." Drew lied quickly, "will you help me? Please?"

Adam sighed deeply.

"Does he have a campaign slogan?" He asked indifferently.

"I don't think so." Drew said, "but he will."

.

oOo

.

Drew had spent most of his evening working out a campaign strategy for Bhandari 2010. With a reluctant Adam helping, Drew had managed to come up with ideas for a slogan, a poster design and even managed to dig up some dirt on Sav's competition, Holly J (apparently, she had a Facerange page dedicated to how much she was hated and someone had even written a song about how much she sucked.) Adam saw the later of these as dirty politics; Drew saw it as being for the greater good – his _popularity_ was at stake!

Drew found Sav at the lockers talking to someone before first period. Sav didn't look particularly happy. As the girl who was talking to him turned to walk away, Drew could see why. It was Holly J.

She glared at Drew as he walked past, he tried to ignore her as he approached Sav, who looked mildly shell-shocked.

"Hey future prez," Drew said, "how goes the campaign?"

"It's uh…" Sav said, staring away from Drew in disbelief, "it's great. It's just great."

"Cool, cause I was doing a little research and I think-"

"Dude, can I get back to you later?" Sav asked, still not looking at Drew, "I was just told that... I need to find out something. See you around."

Sav walked away from Drew, still looking dazed. Drew didn't know what he supposed to do. Whatever Holly J had told Sav had really shaken him up. She was clearly trying to upset the competition.

Maybe it was time to play dirty politics after all.

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Drew headed to the computer lab to pull up the dirt he had found on Holly J. He was sure he had read something about her cheating during a school fast for charity, surely that would be a good start.

He ignored the group of tenner dorks gawking over some blog and pulled up an exercise ball beside a free computer.

"_Holly J Sinclair Degrassi fast."_ He typed furiously as the dorks talked amongst themselves. Drew wouldn't have even paid attention to what they were saying if one of them hadn't dropped a familiar name.

"But didn't Sav and Anya break up?" said a tall kid in glasses.

"Just because they're not together doesn't mean she can't be pregnant," Said a skinny kid wearing an oversized baseball cap, "they only broke up at prom."

Drew listened in, being as inconspicuous as someone bouncing on an exercise ball could be.

"Poor Anya," said a curly haired bespectacled kid, "she must be so scared."

"Poor Anya? Poor Sav," said baseball cap kid, "get your priorities in check, Wes. She's got him trapped forever – she probably did it on purpose."

"Anya's nice, Dave," said Wes defensively.

"Wesley has a crush on Anya," said the tall kid, "that's why he's defending her."

"Shut up, Connor."

Drew had heard enough, he turned off his computer and snuck out of the classroom as the three boys talked amongst themselves. So Sav was going to be a teen dad. Drew could sympathize sort of, he though _he _was going to be a teen uncle. He would have even related his experience to Sav, if it wasn't so impossible to explain.

He found Sav in the hallway campaigning. It turned out that he really didn't need Drew's help; he had t-shirts, posters; buttons and flyers to pass on to the enthusiastic student body. Drew also noticed that Holly J's stand wasn't nearly as crowded.

Drew spotted Sav wearing a campaign t-shirt and handing out flyers, Drew approached.

"Hey man, need any help?" he asked Sav, who seemed a lot less panicked as he had when Drew saw him earlier.

"Yeah sure grab a t-shirt."

Drew picked up a yellow t-shirt. He couldn't help but notice the logo was strikingly similar to Obama's "Hope" campaign. Adam had suggested it as a motif the night before; Drew thought it look really cool.

"Oh, and hey," Sav added, "I still owe you that coffee."

"Forget it," Drew insisted, "anything for the next prez."

Sav grinned.

"Is it my policy on Taco Tuesdays or…"

"Dude, I love tacos," Drew chimed in, he remembered how he felt when he thought that Gracie was in trouble, he was impressed that Sav was still around.

"You know," Drew said, "a lot of teen dad would just bolt, but not you."

Sav's eyes widened. Drew knew instantly that he had said the wrong thing.

"How do you know about the baby?"

Crap. He wasn't supposed to know. Drew suddenly realized what it was that Holly J had told Sav that morning; he'd only just found out about the baby.

"Some dorks in the computer lab had it up on some blog." Said Drew, cursing his excellent spy skills.

Sav stood, shaking his head and sighing.

"I though everyone knew," said Drew quickly, hoping Sav wasn't going to go crazy at him.

"Yeah, they do now." Sav said, in a steady voice, he patted Drew on the shoulder and started to head over to Holly J's stand.

"I'll be right back."

Drew made his way over to a stack of flyers. He tried to listen in to what Sav was saying, but he was too far away. This was all Holly J's fault. Drew had made is _second_ enemy at Degrassi. She was going to ruin Sav's chances at being president by spilling all of his secrets.

Well Drew could spill secrets too.

He ran back over to the computer room. The three dorks were still there, talking away. Drew fired his computer back up, getting ready to print off every nasty piece of information he could find on Holly J Sinclair. He was deep in concentration, ready to bring her down when the dorks dropped another familiar name.

And this time it wasn't Sav's.

"What do think of that Adam kid?" the baseball cap kid – Dave – asked.

"I think he's really funny," Connor piped in, "he says things that people seem to laugh along with."

"I don't know," Dave said slowly, "there's something about him, you know? I just don't know _what_."

"At least he's not Degrassi's number one biggest loser," Wesley said, laughing.

"Shut up Wes, that list is stupid," Dave said defensively.

"Whatever," Wesley shrugged, "he seems cool to me."

Drew swallowed as he hovered over the print icon. He was ready to dish all the dirt he could find on a girl he hardly knew. How would be feel if someone did that to Adam? Was being popular by association really worth ruining someone's reputation over?

Drew shut down the computer, pulled on his yellow t-shirt and decided to hand out Sav's flyers instead.

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_For the non-Canadians out there, and MLA is a Member of the Legislative Assembly – they're similar to Representatives in US congress, but aren't exactly the same. See? You learn something new every day :D_

_I will say nothing about the next chapter other than to give you its name: "Ghoulsworthy." _


	15. Ghoulsworthy

_This chapter doesn't contain any lines from Degrassi eps, because this storyline never happened. Except in my imagination…_

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Chapter 15 - Ghoulsworthy

Sav won the presidency without the need of any of Drew's dirt on Holly J. His girlfriend being pregnant didn't even hinder his campaign, if anything it _helped. _Drew didn't get why that would help anyone in an election, but was glad that Sav won regardless. He liked Sav.

That's why it was hard to hear when Anya announced she had a miscarriage on the morning announcement.

"Oh man," said Drew's homeroom friend, Owen. "He really dodged a bullet there!"

"C'mon dude," Drew said, "he just lost his kid. Think about what Anya must be going through."

"She doesn't even seem that upset." Owen said. "I mean _'super bummer?'_ I would've thought she'd go all Ghoulsworthy on us; maybe waltz around in a black veil or something."

Owen shrugged and went back to defiling his desk with his compass.

"Ghoulsworthy?" Drew echoed.

"Wait," Owen said, "you haven't heard of Ghoulsworthy?"

Drew shook his head, Owen leaned in closer.

"He's this emo junior here. Nobody talks to him," Owen said in an ominous voice, "He hit his girlfriend with his car and killed her last year after she dumped him – you can look it up, it totally happened, dude. He's obsessed with death – they say he collects skulls!"

"Skulls," Drew said, "Like, _human_ skulls?"

"From his victims." Owen said laughing. Drew wasn't sure how serious he was being. "What you got next anyway, Bio?"

"Uh, history." Said Drew, still reeling over what Owen had just told him.

"Man," Owen sighed, "That really is a _super bummer_."

Drew disagreed. He liked history. History had cool battles. History had pirates. As he sat in his history class, Ms. Dawes talked about the epic fights of World War II. It wasn't as exciting as _Braveheart _but it was a whole lot better than anything Drew got taught in _math_. Near the end of the lesson, Ms. Dawes announced the first class assignment of the year.

"Churchill, Stalin, FDR," Dawes recited, "These are the players we all remember from World War II. But what about those lesser remembered fighters? You're assignment is to pair up and give a presentation on a forgotten player of The Second World War; it's up to you who you choose, as long as it's someone you had never come across before."

Drew perked up; there must have been some cool Nazi Hunter guy he could talk about.

"Ok, so partner up, class," Ms. Dawes said clapping her hands together. "Presentations start a week today."

Everyone partnered up with their friends, which sucked because Drew didn't have any friends in history class yet. He would have to put up with being the new kid for this assignment. He looked around, knowing that he'd have to partner up with whoever the least desirable kid in the class was.

Apparently it was the emo kid sitting in the back corner.

The emo kid smiled crookedly at Drew, who hesitantly moved to the back to sit beside him; what if this was the guy Owen was talking about?

"You new here?" emo kid asked.

"Yeah, I just transferred," Drew replied. "I'm Drew. Drew Torres."

"Eli Goldsworthy," the emo kid replied, offering his hand for Drew to shake. Drew took it, mostly because it would be rude not to. This _must _have been Ghoulsworthy.

"So…" Drew began after an overly long and awkward pause. "Forgotten players of World War II. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

"Not really," Eli sighed. "I guess that's the problem with forgotten people; nobody remembers them."

Drew laughed feebly, remembering what Owen had said.

"Tell you what," Eli said, "why don't we meet up after school and see what we can find?"

"Uh…" Drew started, he wasn't enthused on the idea of hanging out with a guy who may or may not have killed someone.

"Great." Said Eli before Drew could answer, "Parking lot?"

"Uh-"

"Good, see you there."

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oOo

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The parking lot was crowded. Drew took this to be a good thing - plenty of witnesses.

Eli showed up barely a minute after Drew did. He had apparently been to the library and was holding a small stack of books under his arm.

"Hey," He said as he walked over to Drew, "ready to ace this assignment?"

"Sure," Drew said, trying to sound enthusiastic, "Are we going to your place?"

As soon as he had said it out loud, Drew had regretted it. Eli could have lived in a dungeon, or an evil lab. Eli could do away with him and no one would have known that Drew was ever there.

"Can't. My room's kind of… off-limits at the moment," Eli said vaguely. "How about your place?"

"I don't know; it's kind of a long walk." Drew said, secretly glad that he wouldn't have to spend his afternoon alone at a strange kid's house, but all the while wondering what "off-limits" meant exactly.

"It's cool, I have a car." Eli shrugged, leading Drew to the parking lot. Drew reconsidered his opinion, Eli may have been a little… off, but he seemed friendly enough otherwise. Besides, Drew was in no position to be choosy about his social company, and it was always useful to have a friend who could drive a-

_Hearse?_

Nope. No. Drew was going to die. He was going to die at the hands of a short emo kid who drove a funeral car.

"This is Morty," Eli said, signalling towards the Car of Death.

"_Morty," _Drew repeated as Eli got into the driver's seat.

Drew didn't move. Eli smirked at him and turned the engine on.

"There's air conditioning," Eli said. Drew considered his options. Either he got into a hearse with a potential serial killer, or he snubbed said serial killer, who was currently behind the wheel of a very large and powerful vehicle pointed directly at Drew.

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oOo

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"So this is my house," Drew said, letting Eli in. The car journey wasn't so horrible; silence was avoided by a Dead Hand CD playing and Drew giving the occasional direction, and other than the car smelling faintly like death, Drew didn't feel like his life was in any immediate danger.

"You want a drink or a snack?" Drew asked. Mom would be horrified if he was rude to a guest, even if that guest was possibly a murderer.

"I'm good."

"oh," Drew said, "ok. Cool."

"Cool."

They stood in the hallway in silence as Drew admired his own shoes. After a ridiculously long time, Eli let out a large sigh.

"Well-"

"Oh, yeah," Drew said, springing back to life, "World War II. People. Forgotten ones. The laptop's in the living room."

Drew took Eli through to the living room and opened up the laptop in the coffee table.

"So," Eli said, making himself a seat on the couch, "how do you propose we actually _find _a forgotten person?"

As it happened, simply typing in "_forgotten heroes of ww2_" turned up plenty of results. Unfortunately, 'plenty' turned out to be over 2 million different websites. Websites that Drew would have to trawl through. One-by-one. With Ghoulsworthy.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

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oOo

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Owen was right about Ghoulsworthy, he _did_ talk about death a lot. Granted he was discussing the biggest war in the history of the world, but still; death seemed to be a hot-button topic with Eli.

"What about this guy?" he would say to Drew, "he died distracting a sniper to get his squadron to safety. Or this guy? He died after volunteering to clear a field of landmines to get the children of Montoire to safety. Or him? He died-"

"-Uh Eli?" Drew intermitted, "maybe we should ease up on the people who died. It's depressing."

"It's not depressing, it's _real_," Eli mused. "These things actually happened, and to dismiss them as depressing is just… disrespectful. Death is an unavoidable part of life, why shouldn't it be discussed openly?"

Drew was suddenly startled by a _bang _and jumped off the couch.

It was the door. Adam had come home from the comic book store.

"Hey bro," Drew said relieved as Adam ignored the living room and walked straight up the stairs, "want to sit down and hang out with me and El-"

"-Can't," said Adam without looking back, "reading."

And with that Adam darted to his room, leaving Drew alone with Ghoulsworthy without any witnesses.

"Little brother," Drew said, pointing to the staircase. He picked up his soda and started to loosen up a little bit, at least someone else was in the house now.

Eli nodded in acknowledgement, but didn't take his eyes off the laptop.

"Here, what about Frieda Belinfante?" He suggested, pointing to the screen. "She was a member of the Dutch Resistance, fighting against the Nazi occupation in Amsterdam to protect people from the Gestapo. In order to fight, she had to disguise herself as a man-"

Drew simultaneously choked on and spat out his soda.

"Wow," Drew wheezed. "That's really something. Excuse me I need to… kitchen."

Drew made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He needed to relax. Eli could have genuinely picked a random person. He didn't know secret thing's about Drew's family. He wasn't a psychopathic stalker. Even if he did drive a car used to transport dead people.

Drew picked up his glass of water, took a deep breath and made his way back to the living room where Eli looked at him in complete bafflement.

"That went down the wrong way!" Drew said, trying to laugh. Eli smiled uncertainly.

"Anyway," Eli said, looking back at the screen, "she _survived_ the war, so not depressing. She seems pretty interesting – what do youthink?"

"I don't think it's such a good idea," Drew said. He didn't want to plant ideas in anyone's heads – the further he stayed away from the topic of gender identity the better.

"C'mon dude," Eli said looking over to Drew, "she defied conformity to help save thousands of people – it's uplifting."

"No, it's stupid," Drew snapped back, "she was a girl who didn't even have to fight and she put herself in danger anyway-"

"-she challenged gender roles in order to protect people; that's insanely cool."

"Well you _would_ think that was cool, you're wearing _eyeliner_!"

Drew waited for Eli to try and punch him, but the punch never came. Eli sat, quite composed, and pulled up another web page.

"What about Patrick Leigh Fermor?" Eli said, casually, as if Drew's outburst never happened. "He was pretty prominent in the Cretan resistance. He seems pretty cool."

"Fine, he'll do," Drew sighed, wanting the whole assignment to be over already.

"Great," said Eli, standing up, apparently feeling the same way Drew did. "I'll see what info I can find at home, and we can swap notes next time we're in history."

Eli grabbed his book bag and jacket and made his own way to the door.

"See you around," he said, nodding as he walked out the door and to his death car.

Drew sat alone in the living room, glad that after the assignment was over, Eli Goldsworthy would never have a reason to come to the Torres house ever again.

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_- Why is Ms. Dawes teaching history you ask? Because she teaches EVERYTHING!_

_- Also, Frieda Belinfante totally existed. Thanks wikipedia! _

_- I think it would be fun to see this chapter from Eli's perspective, since Drew is acting a LOT weirder than "Ghoulsworthy" is. _

_- Join us in chapter 16 – Nothing Personal, in which Drew finally meets a certain Quarter Back…_


	16. Nothing Personal

_It's been 2 months. Yes, I suck. This chapter was hard to write. Because sports._

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episodes "99 Problems (1). _

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Chapter 16 – Nothing Personal

Football. Football Drew's new focus. After a summer of neglecting his training, he was going to get back in the game.

As he approached the sign up sheet in the hallway, he pictured himself being hoisted on the shoulders of his team-mates (they didn't have faces yet, Drew was new and didn't know anybody) after winning the big game. Yeah. It was Drew's year.

"Uh, can I borrow your pen?" Drew asked the guy who had just finished signing his own name- Ril-

Oh.

This was Riley Stavros. Drew didn't know what he had expected Riley to be like in person, but this was not it, he looked so… normal.

"Yeah sure," said Riley, passing his normal looking pen over to Drew, "you new here?"

"Drew." He replied, shaking Riley's hand (again, normal and hand-like.)

"Riley."

Drew turned to add his own name to the sign up sheet. What was he supposed to say to the infamous Riley Stavros? Obviously only one subject could be on the table.

"Yeah, I head the team's good." Drew said.

"Better than they used to be," Riley shrugged. What did that mean? Was Riley implying that the team was better because _he _was in it?

"That's one of the reasons I bugged my mom to let me come to this school," Drew said. It wasn't a complete lie he told himself as he stared at a group of girls walking down the hallway.

"Plus I hear the cheerleaders are smoking," he added for good measure.

"Oh yeah, Degrassi girls are classy girls" Riley joked as someone else approached the signup sheet. He cleared his throat

"You guys got a pen?"

For whatever reason, this guy's presence made Riley's face fall.

"Yeah, here" said Drew, trying to ignore Riley's sudden tenseness, "use his."

Drew gave the guy the pen and he too signed his name: _Zane Park._

Riley leaned over to Zane

"Are you really trying out?" he hissed quietly.

"Team needs a kicker;" Zane shrugged "gotta show gay guys can play sports."

"You're _gay_?" Drew blurted out. He hadn't quite meant to say it out loud, or so brusquely. He had never met anyone who was out in high school, well unless you counted Adam, but that was different. Zane was out. As gay. In high school. And he was trying out for the football team. Maybe Degrassi really was a safe school.

Riley broke Drew's train of thought

"Uh, Zane this is Drew" he said as Drew shook Zane's hand. "Drew's new here and Zane's… in my algebra class."

There was something about the way Riley spoke about Zane that bothered Drew. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it seemed like Riley had a problem with Zane. Maybe he was a homophobe. Drew made a mental note to be wary around him.

"Cool." Drew said, acting casually, "see you guys around."

Drew began to walk away, with a strange feeling in his stomach. Usually anything football related was the cure for his anxiety.

But with someone like Riley around, Drew started to fear that maybe football would only make is anxiety worse.

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"You have 20 minutes to develop a full example using the scarcity paradigm, ok?"

It was 2nd period economics. Mr. Fuller had just spent 10 minutes trying to explain something that Drew didn't understand at all. Now he was supposed to pair up with someone and talk about it. Last time he had to pair up for a class didn't go too well for Drew (the only plus being that he had gotten an A and he had managed to avoid Ghoulsworthy ever since).

This time he had to pair with Riley. Drew tried to work out if this was going to be worse than pairing up someone who murdered his girlfriend and drove a hearse.

Then he looked at the baffling work sheet in front of him and realised that he had no choice but to as for Riley's help.

"Dude," he said, turning to Riley. "I have no idea what that is."

"The scarcity paradigm?" Riley replied, "Well basically when a commodity is limited you have to expend more capital to get it."

Drew had literally no idea what Riley just told him

"You speak English?"

Riley sighed

"Ok look" he said, nodding over to the opposite side of the classroom "there's Jess T, Jess M, Jess B, and… there's Fiona. "

Drew looked over to the girls sitting on the desks. The Jess's were nice enough, but Fiona? Well she was something different all together. Drew now knew who Riley meant when he said that the Degrassi girls were classy.

"Wow." Drew said, staring at Fiona, "One of these things is not like the others!"

"Exactly," Riley said "so last year when I had a date with Fiona-"

" -Nice-"

"I had to work way harder to get a date than I would have had to with a Jessica," Riley explained, "I had to expend more capital."

"Wow," Drew said, "for the first time I think I actually get economics."

Drew and Riley bumped fists, laughing. Drew was struggling to work out Riley, but he was willing to accept that he was cool. For now.

"Gentlemen, c'mon." Mr. Fuller said.

Drew sighed and went back to work. He decided to test the waters with Riley.

" Most of the time, when I tell a girl I'm a quarterback, I'm pretty well in." Drew whispered once Mr. Fuller was out of view.

"You play QB?" Riley asked, looking slightly concerned.

"Yeah, at my old school," Drew said nonchalantly. "Senior team," he added for good measure.

Riley was shaking his head

"But you're only in grade 11"

Riley looked shaken. Drew could feel himself smirking.

"Youngest starter ever."

Drew went back to work. He didn't talk to Riley for the rest of the class, but Drew could feel him staring. He had made Riley Stavros nervous.

It was the best Drew had felt since he had started at Degrassi.

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Drew's good mood followed him to tryouts that afternoon. Coach Armstrong had all the guys run laps, try plays, and now Armstrong had Drew and Riley do a 10- minute race on the exercise bikes.

Drew started strong, but 8 minutes in the exhaustion had really started to kick in. He was starting to regret not training over the summer. He was going to blame Adam for this.

Drew looked over to Armstrong, who was keeping an eye on the stopwatch, then over to Riley, who offered an encouraging smile. Riley had been a pretty good sport throughout tryouts. He was given advice to a grade 10 kid, K.C., who was particularly nervous about trying out. And even though Drew was competition, Riley wished him good luck in tryouts; he even seemed to mean it. Everything he did made him come across as a good guy.

But there was just_ something_ about him that bothered Drew.

"Time."

Armstrong stopped the watch. Both Drew and Riley stopped, completely exhausted.

Armstrong walked over to them bother

"Numbers?"

"4.9 K" Drew said, trying to get his breath back.

Armstrong took note and looked over at Riley.

"5.4"

He had outdone Drew by half a kilometer. That wasn't good. Why had Drew neglected his training over the summer? He was willing to bet that Riley hadn't done the same.

"Nice work Riley," Armstrong said, impressed, "someone's been training over the summer."

Riley shrugged

"A little."

Drew was willing to bet that it was _way_ more than a little. Drew could feel himself feeling more and more annoyed as Riley and Armstrong talked.

"_You focusing all your efforts on lower body?"_

" _No, upper body too. My bench press is about 200lbs."_

Now he was just showing off!

"Well you keep it up," Armstrong said, "and you're a shoo in for QB1."

"Thanks sir." Riley smiled.

Armstrong walked away. Riley got off his bike. If he was decent human being, he would just have walked away and left Drew alone, but he didn't. He walked over to a dejected Drew.

"Don't worry dude, there's always next year," he said in faux-sympathy. That was it. Drew had made his mind up – he hated Riley Stavros.

Riley walked over to Zane. Drew didn't move from his bike. Football was his thing, the one place he wasn't made to feel stupid or inadequate. And now some curly-haired jackass was trying to take that away from him. What right did he have to be better at football than Drew? Did he not realize how bad a year Drew was having? There was no way Riley needed QB1 more than Drew did.

Drew's thoughts were interrupted by Owen, who had decided to speak up over at the weights. His target of the day was Zane, who was chatting with Riley.

"Is, uh, princess here bothering you?" Owen sneered.

"Name calling?" Zane retorted coolly," really?"

Zane walked away, but Owen wasn't finished.

"Nice pants!" Owen said, in a flamboyant voice.

"Like them?" Zane replied, keeping surprisingly calm.

"Oh, they're_ fabulous,_" Owen cooed, "You borrow them from your sister?"

Suddenly Drew felt nervous again. He would have to be wary of Owen now. Drew was starting to run out of people that he _wasn't_ extra aware of.

"What, you don't do yoga?" Zane asked as he made his way over to the pull-up bar.

"As if," Owen scoffed.

" Helps build upper-arm strength," Zane said, demonstrating thus, by performing pull-ups, " maybe _you_ should give it a try."

Owen said nothing

"Oh – we _could_ go shopping first." Zane finished, he had verbally_ destroyed _Owen. Drew felt that Zane would get on pretty well with Adam. He wondered if Zane was so good at dealing with guys like Owen because he has to deal with it a lot.

Drew moved over to weights where Riley sat, smiling at Zane's roasting of Owen.

"Must be tough for your bud," Drew started, trying to find out if Zane had to deal with stuff like that all the time.

But Riley was no help

"My bud? I barely know the guy." Riley muttered.

And the thing that bothered Drew started to appear again. Riley was weird about Zane, but why? Was it as simple as homophobia? It didn't seem that way to Drew. He decided to push the issue.

" Doesn't bother me," Drew said, "but, let's say he makes it; what happens when the Bardell guys find out we have a kicker who, uh, kisses dudes?"

He waited for Riley's answer, but it never came._ Something_ was making Riley act weird.

And as Riley walked away, Drew was determined to find out exactly what that something was.

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Drew moved from the small gym to the larger hall, K.C., the nervous tenner that Riley had been helping, was practicing his throw. He looked as frustrated as Drew felt.

"Damn it!" he muttered as he ran over to the other end of the hall to get his football back.

"Here," Drew said, running ahead of K.C. picking up the ball, "I'll throw back to you."

K.C. nodded and made his way back to the opposite end of the gym, Drew threw to him.

"You're Drew Torres, right?" K.C. asked, catching the ball.

"Uh, yeah," Drew replied.

"So you're Adam's brother?"

"That's me," Drew said catching the ball, "put more weight on your front foot on release."

"Oh," K.C. said, changing his stance, "thanks."

Drew threw the ball back, "So you know my brother?"

"Yeah, he's in my grade. He's so funny," K.C. said, starting to laugh, "the other day we were talking about British Columbia, and he made this joke, uh… it was really funny too, it was… oh man, I can't remember it now. It was great though. Does he play football?"

"Yeah, _Madden_." Drew said dryly.

"Oh, that's too bad," K.C. said, practicing his throw, "hey that _is_ better. Thanks dude."

Drew smiled. At least he wouldn't add K.C. to his ever-growing watch list.

"Well it's all about weight distribution," Drew said, holding onto the football, "If we had another ball I could show you better."

"There's some in the other hall," K.C. said, pointing to the door, "do you want me to"

"No, I'll get it, " Drew said, walking over to the door, "I know what I'm looking for."

Drew left gym and walked along the hallway to the other gym hall, could hear voices coming from it on his way up. He stopped when he realized who they belonged to.

It was Riley and Zane.

Drew was sure to be quiet when he opened to door to the gym hall.

" -but I need his respect if I'm gonna lead the team" Riley said sighing, "look I know I said it was ok if you tried out but I didn't know it was gonna be this risky."

Drew headed back to the door for stealthier listening. He wanted to know what kind of 'risks' Riley was talking about.

Zane was practicing his kicking, but Riley stopped him.

"Zane… I like you. They'll _know."_

No. They were _not _talking about what it sounded like they were talking about.

Zane laughed dryly

"Holy cow, I'm not going to jump you in the locker room. Alright?"

They were talking about _exactly _what it sounded like they were talking about.

Riley was getting frustrated

"If those guys even see me talking to you, they'll think I'm gay, then I can kiss being captain goodbye. I told you: there's the Riley you hang out with and then there's the Riley that plays football."

"Right the two Riley's theory," said Zane, angrily kicking a football.

"Drew wants my spot, I can't lose my edge," Riley said, making Drew inch away from the door slightly, "This is the worst possible time to-"

" - be who you are? My back row movie partner? My Greek food tour guide? My thoughtful bike fixer? My guy."

Riley approached Zane

"Please don't do this," he pleaded quietly, but Zane wasn't having any of it.

"I thought football was something we could do together. But now that I'm here, I like it. And I'm not going to let jerkwad football Riley treat me like a leper. Like it or not."

Zane started heading for door. Drew, still reeling at what he just heard, made a hasty exit before he could be caught.

He ran back to the other gym where K.C. was standing, waiting.

"So," K.C. asked, "did you get what you were looking for?"

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_- Transcribing this was a total pain – there doesn't appear to be any Degrassi scripts on the web past season 6! _

_- Don't worry, the hilarious British Columbia joke is coming, it's coming. _

_- Chapter 17 "Boxes" will be up soon (as in: less than two months from now…)_


	17. Boxes

_Hey everyone! Just a quick note to say that I suspect what's going to happen in future chapters it that I'll alternate between an original-plot chapter and a canon-plot chapter, just so that there's not a disproportionate amount of either. _

_So here's an original-plot chapter. Hope you guys like it!_

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Chapter 17 - Boxes

"No way."

"_You heard right. The Dead Hand are back together for a reunion tour this fall."_

"This is the best thing that has ever happened," said Adam inching closer and closer to the car radio, "literally – the best thing!"

"You are _far_ too young to know who The Dead Hand are," Dad sighed.

"You're forgetting that I'm really, really cool," Adam said smirking.

"-And that they brought out an over-rated single earlier this year," Drew chimed in from the backseat.

Adam turned to glare at Drew, but was still too excited from the news of the tour to be convincingly annoyed.

"You know," said Dad, stopping at the red light, "The first date I took your Mom on was a Dead Hand concert in '99. Still have the t-shirt to prove it."

"Really?" Adam said, sitting up in his seat, "a vintage Dead Hand t-shirt has to give you at least 5 more cool points."

"Yeah, but if you count coolness in points, you instantly lose." Drew deadpanned.

This time Adam's death stare was almost good enough to rival Mom's.

"I get a little sad when 1999 is considered a 'vintage' year…" Dad said absent-mindedly from the front.

"So where is all this stuff?" Adam asked, "I've never seen it."

"It'll be in a box in the attic somewhere," Dad replied, "I'll look it out for you at the weekend."

"Awesome," Adam said, grinning.

Drew rolled his eyes. He was replaying the last ten minutes, when he suggested that the football team should have a barbeque in the school parking lot – that everyone should bring a date. He was he hoping to smoke out Riley, and he was pretty pleased with himself until he collected Adam from the library after tryouts were over.

"So did you make the team?" Adam asked, packing up his homework.

"I don't know yet," said Drew, "there's some pretty stiff competition."

"What?" Adam said, pretending to be outraged, "someone has the audacity to be better at football than _you_?"

"It's fine though," Drew said, smirking, "I've got a plan."

"What's your plan?"

Drew was quiet for a moment. Adam had previously give Drew a guilt trip for trying to dig up dirt on Holly J Sinclair during the student elections. How was he doing to react to Drew telling him that he was threatening to 'out' another student?

Drew knew that he would never actually out Riley, he wasn't that much of a jerk, but was really _that_ much worse than threatening to? If someone threatened to out Adam, Drew would break their face without hesitation. But then again, Riley was twice Adam's size, the worst he'd have to put up with is taunting – Adam could get really hurt.

"Uh… is your plan to give everyone the silent treatment?" Adam asked sarcastically, "because that's not effective, that's just weird."

"Dude, shut up." Drew snapped back. He was annoyed. He was annoyed at himself for not keeping up with his training and losing his edge, he was annoyed at Adam for being Adam and putting himself in danger, he was annoyed at Riley for being better than him and for being gay. Why did he have to be gay? Why couldn't he have been throwing games or doing steroids? Drew wouldn't have to feel so bad if that was the big secret.

Drew's bad mood continued when Dad picked them up in front of the school. He didn't care that The Dead Hand were reuniting, or that Dad had some cool merchandise, he just wanted to go to bed so that the day to be over so that he could stop hating himself.

But as Dad dropped them off at the house, Adam had a different plan.

"I'll be back in an hour," Dad said from the car, "don't cause _too_ much trouble."

As Dad drove away, Adam turned to Drew

"So?" he said deviously, "wanna take a trip to the attic?"

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"Dad said to wait for the weekend."

"When have you ever done anything Dad told you to do?"

Drew had to admit, Adam had a point as he opened up the door to the attic, Drew was not what anyone would consider obedient. But he had seen enough horror movies to learn that sneaking into an attic without permission always ends badly.

This trip would be no exception.

Drew had never been in the attic in the new house. He wasn't a fan of them; they were dark and creepy and potentially spider-filled.

"Where do you think Dad would keep old cool stuff?" Adam asked, crouching under the beams.

"I don't know," said Drew languidly, "in the box labelled '_old cool stuff'_?"

"You're not being helpful-"

"-Well I'm not trying to be helpful, I'm trying to get you out of the attic before we get into trouble."

"Stop being such a bab-"

Adam stopped. Something had caught his eye.

A box tucked away in the corner. It had been sealed with more care than the other ones and was ominously labelled '_For G.T._"

Adam got onto his knees and pulled the box out. As he began to open it, Drew suddenly had a sneaking suspicion of what was in the box and realised that it would be a bad idea for Adam to see it's contents.

"No-no-no," Drew said quickly, "it's got spiders in it; lot's of them – big ones!"

But Adam obviously wasn't as afraid of spiders as Drew and opened the box anyway.

Drew could see Adam tense up as the pulled the contents out.

A pair of jeans, a couple of pink and purple t-shirts, a sundress, now scattered on the floor where Adam was kneeling.

He stopped delving; he wasn't going to find anything he wanted to see.

"Huh," Adam said calmly, Drew couldn't see his face - a fact that he was glad of; Adam's sad-face was heartbreaking.

Drew said nothing. He couldn't think of anything that would make the situation any better.

"I thought," Adam said in a quiet strangled voice, "I thought Mom threw all this stuff out."

Drew wasn't sure Adam meant for him to hear his words or not, either way, Drew remained quiet and utterly useless.

Adam's shoulders collapsed, as if someone had cut the strings keeping him upright

"They don't take me seriously at all, do they?"

"Maybe it's just a sentimental thing," Drew finally said, "like how they've kept all of our baby toys."

"These are new, Drew," Adam said in the quietest, yet angriest voice Drew had ever heard, "they still have the stupid tags on them!"

Adam feebly punched the box away, clearly too defeated to muster up the energy to be properly enraged.

"I really thought-" Adam started to say, but he never finished. He just sat, staring into the distance.

Drew crouched over to sit beside him, putting his arm around his little brother's weary shoulders.

"I know," he said, patting his hand on Adam's arm assuringly, "I know."

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_- Poor Adam, I just want to reach through the screen and hug him sometimes._

_- I've started to put an edited version of the fic up on my tumblr (jay-ell-gee), there's some extra chapters - and less derpy grammar - if you'd like to read it there! _

_- also: Papa Torres has actual dialogue and everything in this chapter, holy crap!_

_- As stated above, the next chapter will be a canon-plotline (more Drew/Riley drama for y'all to enjoy!) See you then._


	18. The Two Drews Theory

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "99 Problems (1)"_

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Chapter 18 – The Two Drews Theory

Drew was impressed with how good the barbeque looked considering it had been planned so last minute, but then again he supposed that anything involving the football team was going to guarantee a good turn out. Classes had only been out for 5 minutes and there were already burgers on the grill, rows of tables set up with drinks and snacks, and people scattered in groups hanging out or playing football.

Drew had been there less than a minute when he was approached by Riley, his arm was around a cute junior.

A girl one.

This was going to be hilariously awkward.

"Drew," Riley said loudly, "how are you man?"

"Good," Drew replied, "good turn out, eh?"

"Yeah, I'd like you to meet my _date_," said Riley, gesturing towards his prop, "this is Marilyn."

"Marilyn" did not look pleased

"It's Mari-_sol,_" she stressed before removing Riley's arm from hers.

"Oh, right," Riley said dimly.

Marisol smiled at Riley bitterly.

"And Mari_sol _is going to get her self some water."

Marisol walked over to the beverage table, leaving Riley looking a little bewildered. Drew would have felt embarrassed for him if he hadn't totally deserved it.

"So where's your date man?" Riley asked, trying to recover from his embarrassment by casually reaching for a snack.

"I don't know any girls at Degrassi yet," Drew shrugged, "although, knowing them doesn't seem to stop you."

Riley laughed nervously.

"Well, you can only keep so many girl's names in your head at once, you know?"

Riley's attention was shifted from Drew to the snack table where Zane was helping himself to a chip. Riley continued to watch him as he walked away.

He wasn't even_ trying_ to hide it.

"You sure don't have the same problem with _boy's_ names," Drew said, causing Riley to shift his attention back to him.

"What are you trying to say?"

"That's the second time I've caught you checking out Mr. Gay," Drew said, surprising himself at how malicious he sounded, "I'm just wondering if something's going on."

"Like what?" Riley couldn't hide his nervousness, Drew decided to let him sweat.

"Nothing," he said, walking away from Riley, "just joking."

Drew was feeling pretty awesome again. He was even feeling good enough to try his luck with a group cheerleaders he could see loitering by the hot dogs. As he approached, Drew spotted K.C. leaning against a truck next to _Jenna. _It seemed he was even more misguided that Drew had previously thought.

"Hey man," Drew said, picking up a football from under one of the tables, "wanna play catch?"

He noticed that Jennahad her arm wrapped very tightly around K.C.'s; she was one of _those_ girlfriends.

"Sure," K.C. said, pushing himself off the truck, "I've been practicing my release like you showed me."

Jenna pulled K.C. back towards her.

"K.C.," she said, "we were supposed to be celebrating your grades. Together."

"I'll be right over there," he said, trying to shake off Jenna's grip.

Jenna sulked, but relented.

Drew walked over to a free space in parking lot, far enough to be out of Jenna's earshot, but close enough so that she could see that K.C. was enjoying himself without her. They talked sports for a while, but the subject soon turned to a person that Drew was hoping to avoid thinking about when he was plotting to 'out' someone.

"Oh, hey – I remembered that joke. The one your brother told me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We were in civics and I asked your him where you guys were from and he said 'British Columbia'-"

"-This is true-"

"-And then I was all like: 'I hear there's a lot of pot in British Columbia'-"

"-Also true-"

"-And then he's all like: 'yeah, they should rename it British California!'"

Drew stopped throwing the ball to K.C. as he waited for the punch line.

"_British California_…" K.C. repeated before laughing feebly, "you… you had to be there."

"Yeah, _that's_ the problem with that joke," Drew said before continuing to throw to K.C., "so, you're an Argonauts fan?"

K.C. stopped before he could reply, his phone started going off in his pocket.

"I should take this," he said, putting the ball on the ground and heading away from the parking lot, "so… yeah."

Jenna saw him leaving and began to follow. Drew was left alone again; he wondered were that Marisol girl had gone off to, she seemed feisty.

As he looked around for her, his attention was drawn towards Riley and Zane having what looked to be a heated conversation.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Zane, 'sup?" he said as he approached, they didn't look happy.

"Oh. Sorry," Drew said innocently, "am I interrupting?"

"No." Riley said, not taking his eyes off Zane. "We're done."

"Way to go, calling the shots again," Zane retorted before storming off. Drew moved into the spot he had stood in, squaring off against Riley.

"So, still going to deny it?" Drew asked, feeling oddly valiant even though deep down he knew he was doing something incredibly sleazy.

Riley didn't seen to care how brave Drew was feeling.

"Dude. I'm not in the mood for your stupid jokes!"

Riley started to walk away from Drew, presumably to go after Zane, but Drew wasn't finished.

"Who says I'm joking?" Drew shouted at Riley, causing him to turn and face Drew again.

Drew was in too deep to back out now. He went for the kill.

"I saw you two arguing in the gym. I know all about the _two Riley's theory._"

_Fatality. _Drew had Riley's undivided attention. He made himself perfectly clear.

"So, unless you want me to tell the entire team, I suggest you step aside for QB1."

Drew walked away before Riley had time to do anything, as he turned back to give Riley one victorious wink, Drew could see that Riley was scared. QB1 was Drew's; he _knew_ it.

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Drew figured it would take Riley half an hour at the most to get himself to such a panic that he'd come running to Drew, begging not to tell anyone his secret in exchange for QB1. Drew would agree of course since he had no intention of telling Riley's secret to anyone. Not that Riley knew that. Or Zane for that matter.

Which is why Zane pulled Drew aside as he was waiting in line for a second cheeseburger.

"Drew, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, "about Riley?"

Drew felt nervous; he knew that Zane wasn't as easy to manipulate as Riley was; he was too smart to get frightened by Drew's empty threats.

"Sure dude," he said, leaving the burger line and following Zane to a quiet spot by the parked cars; for a absurd moment Drew felt himself check to see if anyone was watching him being led to a secluded spot by an openly gay guy then realized that he was being dumb.

Once they were out of everyone else's earshot, Drew awkwardly addressed Zane.

"So," he said, "what's this all about?"

Zane stared at Drew in a stern manner that reminded him of Mom. Drew instinctually felt nervous.

"Riley's under the impression that you intend to tell everyone that he's gay if he doesn't give you QB1."

"Well he is isn't he?" said Drew, feeling oddly defensive, "I heard you two talking in the gym yesterday – I saw you fight today, I know about his two Rileys theory."

Zane thought for a moment before replying, as if he were replaying Riley's conversation over again in his head.

"Riley isn't ready to tell people," Zane said sounding just _slightly_ annoyed, "he thinks that gay guys can't play sports."

"Well_ you _play sports and you're gay. Riley's a good quarterback. Liking guys doesn't impair your ability to play football," Drew said, suddenly realizing that he was defending Riley and wondering how Zane had managed to make him do that.

"That isn't the point," Zane stressed, "people should be able to come out in their own time - on their own terms. I thought you of all people would understand that."

Drew was startled for a moment. Did Zane think that Drew was gay? Was it because he didn't show up to the barbeque with a date? Was it because he had a habit of leaving maybe one button too many undone on his shirts? Was it because he had to stop and check his hair every time he passed something reflective?

"Hey man," Drew said, putting his hands up infront of his torso, "you were the one who wanted to go off alone, not me!"

"Not you," said Zane looking amused, "I meant your brother. Adam, right?"

Drew didn't say anything. He didn't know exactly what Zane knew, or how much, and didn't want to give him more ammo.

"I caught him loitering outside the LGBT club last week," Zane eventually explained, "I asked him if he wanted to come in, he told me the time and scampered off. I assume he's stealth?"

Drew wasn't totally sure what Zane meant by "stealth" except that it was the name of a kind of mission in video games and sounded really cool and ninja-like. He nodded anyway.

"Thought so," Zane said, "I figured that if he wasn't the whole school would be talking about it by now. I've never actually met a trans guy in real life before."

"Listen," Drew eventually said, trying to sound threatening and failing miserably, "if you tell anyone, I swear I'll-"

"-I have no intention of outing anyone," Zane said over Drew, "but surely you can see how what you're doing to Riley is wrong. No matter how irrational his reasons – he's entitled to his secrecy. You're not just the asshole jock you pretend to be, you're a good guy, Drew. You'll do the right things in the end - or, at least, that's _my_ theory."

Zane offered a smile to Drew, but it did nothing to make him feel any better.

"Enjoy the rest of the party," Zane said, moving back to the direction of the crowd, "see you at practice."

Zane disappeared leaving Drew alone.

All of a sudden he didn't want that second cheeseburger anymore.

He wanted to go home.

He started walking out of the parking lot, past the school gates and onto the sidewalk.

Drew had a lot of time to think on the walk home. By the time he had passed The Dot, his mood had settled on angry. What did Adam think he was doing going to the LGBT club? He was supposed to be _stealth - _like Solid Snake or something. People were going to find out if he wasn't careful – people had already found out. And although Drew was confident that Zane wouldn't say anything, he couldn't guarantee that someone else would offer the same courtesy.

He imagined what would happen if Riley found out. Adam's secret carried a much bigger consequence than Riley's, and even though Stavros wasn't the smartest guy in the world, surely even he would have enough sense to figure out that he'd have a much bigger power over Drew than Drew had over him.

Drew wondered if he would have to rethink his tactics. He wasn't a bully, not really; bullied prey on the weak and defenseless – Drew just took down people who got in his way. But what he was doing to Riley was starting to hit far too close to home.

What was QB1 worth anyway? It wasn't like Drew would _never_ be able to get his shot; Riley was a senior, he'd be gone next year and the spot would be Drew's. But after everything that had happened in the last couple of months, Drew really needed a win.

He didn't know what do to; he wasn't old enough to deal with these sort of life altering decisions. He needed guidance. He needed a sign.

Before Drew could consider his options further, his phone buzzed. He had a text:

_Early practice 2morrow. B school 4 8am _

_Riley_

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_- It causes me actual pain to type in "txt speak" – damn kids these days, too lazy to spell out the whole word! (I'm 17…)_

_- I finally found the time to start watching 11.5 and, if you ask me? The minisodes the episodes (I mean, oh my god, it's Paige! And Sav! And everyone's dancing!)_

_In the next chapter: Mama Torres is piiissed!_


	19. The Wrath of Audra Torres

_Yikes this chapter ran long. I've split it in two and re-jigged it a bit (hopefully it still makes sense!)_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "99 Problems (2)"_

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Chapter 19 – The Wrath of Audra Torres

As Drew stood there, wrapped naked to a flagpole by the front entrance of his new school, he had to wonder what he had done to deserve this.

Was it because he had helped Marc duct-tape students to their own houses in the past? Or because he had stolen the last cinnamon bun at breakfast that morning?

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because he was trying to blackmail a teammate into giving him a starting position that he hadn't earned.

Yeah, there was the slight possibility that _that's_ what Drew did to deserve his comeuppance.

Mom had dropped Drew off alone. Adam hadn't gotten up early enough to sit in at Drew's practice. He'd have to walk to school.

He was lucky.

It had taken Drew an embarrassingly long time to realize that Riley and Owen weren't approaching him at a determined speed because they wanted to have a friendly chat. He may have even uttered the words "Hi guys, you up for the early practice?"

They tackled Drew.

"_What are you doing?"_

"_We thought we'd welcome you to the team first Drew."_

Owen threw Drew over his shoulder; from this vantage point Drew could see that Riley had something in his hands.

Saran wrap and duct tape.

"_Give the whole school the chance to meet you too."_

No.

Owen carried Drew over to the flagpole

Oh god, no.

Drew knew what was happening, he had_ done _this very same thing to others, but he never thought he'd be on the receiving end.

"The flagpole thing?" he said in doomed acknowledgement as Riley taped his hands behind his back, "there's got to be better hazing than this."

"Hazing?" Riley said, gleefully, "Who said anything about hazing?"

Drew started to beg, even _that _was significantly less humiliating than his other option.

"Guys, guy's come on!"

But it wasn't going to work. Owen pulled the tape over Drew's mouth.

"No more talking."

Riley pulled himself closer to Drew.

"You're lucky," he said, grinning, "I used to have a _violent_ streak."

"You don't have to do this," Drew said desperately, but to Riley and Owen, it sounded more like "Mrmph murhrm"

"Ok," Riley said, jumping down beside Owen, "take off his clothes."

Owen stepped back.

"No way, _you_ take off his clothes."

Riley looked panicked.

"Uh-uh, dude," said Riley nervously, "I'm not _gay_!"

Drew would have begged to differ, but his mouth was taped shut.

"Ok," Owen sighed, "we'll both do it – deal?"

Riley shifted for a moment, but relented and shook Owen's hand.

"Deal."

They had finished their hazing just minutes before the first lot of students started milling in.

Owen smiled proudly as he took a picture of his handiwork; it would be the first of many pictures that day.

Drew could have happily lived without hearing a camera click ever again.

Or the high-pitched laughter of a teenage girl.

Or any iteration of "nice pole!"

It was an excruciating half hour before a teacher finally arrived. Of course it would be Armstrong.

He ran up the steps to Drew, he looked genuinely concerned.

"Okay, who did it?" he asked.

"Hmrum, mrhmf,"

"Sorry son," Armstrong sighed, grabbing a corner of the tape, "there's only one way to do this I'm afraid."

"Hrm?"

He didn't even do a courtesy count before he ripped the tape off. Drew screamed, he didn't care – he had no more dignity to lose that day.

"So?" Armstrong said, humanely ignoring Drew's yelping, "I assume to didn't plaster grab yourself to the pole?"

Drew wasn't sure how to answer that without getting his ass kicked.

"Can you find my clothes?"

Armstrong let out a large sigh.

"Yeah I'll get some scissors, just… don't go anywhere."

"Very funny," said Drew, smiling bitterly.

The school bell started to ring. Armstrong was good enough to make sure that the audience that had built up finally made their way to class before we went inside to find a pair of scissors.

Drew saw that Riley and Owen were among them, winking and giving him the thumbs up.

He had never hated anyone more than he did in that moment, and he couldn't imagine a situation that would make him hate anyone more.

He stood there alone in the quiet, but he could still hear the laughing echoing in his head. It was unnerving – nobody ever laughed _at_ Drew. He tried to drown the noise out with something – anything.

He heard a familiar voice.

"Crap, crap, crap."

Adam was running towards the school with his head down, cursing himself for running late – he was always late when he had to walk.

Adam quickly glanced at the sight of someone tied naked to a flagpole but kept his head down and continued running towards the front entrance.

Then it registered _who_ it was on the flagpole.

Adam stopped and slowly took a few steps backwards, staring Drew down.

"Morning, bro." Drew said, smiling feebly.

Adam blinked a few times, mouth hanging open.

"Armstrong's getting scissors," Drew said, nodding his head in the direction Armstrong went.

Adam just stared in disbelief.

"Good," he sighed, turning again towards the school and walking away shaking his head, "good-good. Cool."

"See you at lunch," Drew yelled in Adam's direction, but received no response.

Drew just stood there awkwardly until Armstrong came running back, scissors in one hand, gray track suit in the other.

"It's ok," he said, kneeling at Drew's side, cutting his legs free, "you'll be out of here in no time."

Drew stood still making sure not to talk to or look at Armstrong as the teacher freed him, also making sure that he was keeping a good hold of the saran wrap covering his… self. This was all somehow _worse_ that just being tied up there for everyone to see.

Once he was done, Armstrong sheepishly turned around so that Drew could get changed.

Armstrong, still turned away, cleared his throat.

"I'll take you the principal's office when you're ready," he said, "you can tell him what happened and who did this."

Drew finished getting changed without answering. He didn't know if it was a good idea to get Riley and Owen into trouble.

Armstrong took Drew to Simpson's office. The two teacher's talked in the office whilst Drew waited outside. A few minutes later, Armstrong emerged with Principal Simpson, they both smiled at Drew. Armstrong patted him on the shoulder.

"See you at practice, son."

Simpson ushered Drew into his office.

"Take a seat."

Drew sat down and stared at the desk in front of him. On the desk was a framed photo of Drew could only assume was Simpson's family, a wife and two kids. One, a pretty blonde girl, couldn't have been that much older than Drew. He was surprised – he couldn't imagine Simpson with a teenaged daughter.

"So," Simpson asked, taking his own seat, "what happened?"

"Got wrapped to a flag pole." Drew mumbled.

"Well yes, I realize that," Simpson said gently, "but how did you get up there?"

Drew hesitated before answering.

"Two guys tackled me before school."

"What two guys?"

Drew stared at the desk again.

"I don't know."

"That's understandable," Simpson said, "you're a new student, you're not going to know everyone yet. But could you describe them?"

"No," Drew said quickly, Simpson leaned back in his chair.

"No?"

"What I mean is," Drew said, desperately trying to come up with something, "I, uh, I didn't see their faces. They were covered."

"They were wearing masks?"

"Yeah, that's it!" Drew said, hoping that it would be enough to get Simpson off his back.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. One of the janitors came in with Drew's clothes and book bag. Drew muttered a thank you as he took his things back – Superman underwear and all and shoved all his clothes into his book bag.

Drew sat horrified in Simpson's office. His day couldn't get any worse.

"It's alright," Simpson said sympathetically, "you don't have to go over it again at the moment; Mr. Armstrong explained the situation to me."

"_Great,"_ Drew deadpanned.

"I've already called your mother."

Oh, Drew's day could get worse. Much worse.

"You did _what_?"

"She's on her way now," said Simpson smiling. He had no idea what was about to go down.

Momageddon

Drew heard Mom before he saw her. Her sharp, quick footsteps.

Her curt tone with the receptionist.

"_Where's my son?"_

Her even faster steps when she was apparently pointed in the direction of Simpson's office.

The door being burst open without invitation.

Drew could pinpoint the exact moment that Simpson realized his mistake to involve Mom.

"Uh, Mrs. Torres," he said nervously, "thank you for coming, please take a seat."

"I'd prefer to stand," Mom said dangerously, "I don't intend to be here very long. Just point me in the direction of the boys who did this and I'll be on my way."

There. That was the moment that Simpson's face, his whole body even, sank.

"Well," he started hesitantly, "we don't exactly _know _whotied Drew to the flagpole Mrs. Torres. Ma'am."

"Really?" Mom said, tilting her head to the side, "well don't you think it's obvious?"

Simpson stayed quiet; this was the smart thing to do.

"My son was asked to come early for a _"football practice"_," she said, taking a step towards Simpson's desk and causing him to sink further, "he was physically manhandled; my son is a quarterback Mr. Simpson, he can handle himself. Obviously someone from the football team did this."

"Oh," Simpson said quietly, "well then, I can ask Coach Armstrong to-"

"I want to see the football team," said Mom, smiling. Smiling was never good.

"Mom, it's fine, please!" Drew begged, he could see Simpson looking at him with a sympathy much more genuine than when he thought that hazing was the scariest thing Drew would have to put up with that day.

Simpson pulled his sinking body up towards the intercom.

"All members of the football team, please report to the gym immediately," he sighed.

"Ok," Mom said, clapping her hands together, "let's go."

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The football team started to fill up the gym, most of them had gotten changed into their gym clothes – they thought it was a practice.

"Settle down everyone," Armstrong said as the boys talked in confused chatter, "now Principal Simpson would like to talk to you about something that happened to one of your team mates with morning."

Everybody when quiet, they knew what had happened to Drew –everyone in the school did. Drew looked around, Zane stood with is arms folded, K.C. looked nervous, Riley and Owen were stood directly in front of Drew. They didn't look worried at all.

"There's been an incident," Simpson said, "and I hope that none of you were involved."

Mom stood there with her arms tightly crossed.

"My son was hazed, obviously someone was involved."

Simpson looked sheepish

"Well, possibly, but-"

"- No," Mom said, cutting in, "there's no acceptable 'but' after that. Unless you're defending hazing?"

"No one would do that." Armstrong insisted.

"By tacitly accepting it, you're endorsing the behavior," Mom said, tilting her head as she waited for a response. Armstrong sighed and turned to the team; even _he _was afraid of her

"Does anyone know how Drew got wrapped to the flagpole?"

No one in the team said anything, people started shuffling nervously. Zane raised his hand and cleared his throat.

"Doesn't Drew know who did it?"

Owen and Riley turned around to look at Drew, who used all his will power to avoid looking back at them. Mom would _know _if he looked back.

"They had masks," he said, ignoring their glaring, "I, uh, didn't get a good look."

Mom groaned; she wasn't as easy to convince as Simpson.

"It was someone in this room. And if nobody owns up, I'll go to the school board." She said shrugging before turning again to Armstrong, "I don't need to remind you of the serious consequences to the team?"

Simpson looked around desperately.

"Anyone? Riley did you hear anything?"

Riley's façade of confidence fell when he was confronted directly.

"N-no sir."

"Oh no?" Mom said as she stepped out from behind the teachers and approached Riley, "So you have no idea who tried to humiliate the young man who also just happens to be trying out for quarterback?"

She smiled and tiled her head in a move that always reminded Drew of a velociraptor, even though he was pretty sure raptors couldn't smile.

Drew stepped forward.

"I know Riley, mom – he'd tell you."

He stared at Mom, who stared at Riley, who stared back at her. Drew was reminded of a scene from a movie he once saw where a gang of diamond thieves stand in a warehouse pointing guns at one another as they try to work out which one of them is actually an undercover cop. But, obviously, the stare-off in the gym was much more deadly.

"We'll keep looking into this," Simpson said, causing Mom to break her stare and look over to Simpson.

"Oh, I'm sure you will," she said, in a way that sounded like she really meant to say _"you better."_

Mom walked out of the gym hall, when she was gone everyone started breathing again.

"Alright guys, get to class," said Armstrong, "let's go."

Owen and Riley stared at Drew, but said nothing before leaving.

Simpson walked up to Drew.

"You uh, you better go get changed."

He gave Drew another apologetic smile before leaving.

Drew headed for the locker room, as the walked away he heard someone call after him.

"See you around, Mama's Boy."

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oOo

.

Drew was dreading lunchtime. He knew that most the school would be making fun of him for the flagpole incident, and that the football team would be making fun of him for his overbearing mother – which was worse.

As he made his way to the cafeteria, he spotted K.C. sitting down and texting furiously by the window.

"Hey," he said, causing K.C. to jump and shove his phone back into his pocket.

"Oh, hey!" K.C. said nervously as Drew sat down beside him.

"Torres," a senior shouted as he walked past, "you're pole is trending on Facerange."

"Don't hurt his feelings," his friend said laughing, "his Mommy will get mad at you."

Drew kept his head down as they walked away.

"Dude," K.C. sighed, raising his eyebrows, "your Mom is scary!"

"Trust me, I _know_," Drew groaned, "she's not even my real mom, she's my step-mom; my real mom's in Brisbane."

"Really?" K.C. exclaimed, sitting up, "mine too. Or at least, she was – she's out now, has been for a while actually."

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Brisbane," Drew repeated slowly, "Australia?"

"Oh," K.C. said, eyes widening, "_Brisbane_, I thought you said… never mind."

K.C. retreated into himself a little, a gesture Drew recognized from Adam. Drew figured that K.C and Adam would get along quite well. They were both smart, good kids who had to put up with way more personal crap than they deserved to. Heck, they even both wore a ludicrous amount of beanies. Drew would have to set up a guys night for them both, as far as Drew knew, Adam hadn't made any real friends yet.

Then again, the only real friend Drew had made was Owen, and he turned out not to be a friend at all.

"So," Drew said before the silence could get too awkward, "you think you're gonna get wide receiver?"

"I don't know," K.C. said, shrugging, "do you think you're get QB1?"

Drew didn't know. He wasn't sure what he was going to do about Riley. He no longer had any sympathy for him, but clearly, Riley was going to fight back.

"Who knows," Drew eventually said, "want to get some lunch?"

"I can't, I have to go," K.C. said, "Marisol's going to give me her brother's old playbook. Should be helpful."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

K.C. scuffled away, leaving Drew on his own. He could feel people pointing and staring. He decided to get up and make his way to the cafeteria; a moving target was harder to hit. He didn't want to hear any more about his step-mother that day.

But when he got to the cafeteria he could see that that was going to be an impossibility.

She was waiting for him by the lunch line.

"I need to talk to you," she said, her arms still crossed.

Drew shook his head.

"Haven't you done enough damage for one day?"

He started to walk away; he could hear Mom's footsteps as she followed him.

"I know fine well that you know _exactly_ who wrapped you to the flagpole."

Drew pretended that he couldn't hear her and started to walk faster.

"It was that Riley boy wasn't it? He kept staring at you – him and his friend."

"I don't know!" Drew said angrily.

"Andrew Torres don't lie to me!"

Drew stopped and turned around.

"Will you back off, you're _not_ my mother!"

Drew had used the "you're not my mother" card only three times. The first was when Drew was 6 and Audra tried to explain that his real mom couldn't come and visit due to an earthquake occurring near the stopover airport in Japan and canceling her flight, the second was when he was in 7th grade and she grounded him for attempting to joyride in Marc's step dad's new car, but ended up crashing into the garage wall instead (Marc didn't realize that the car was already in gear; also he was 12 at the time and couldn't drive).

And then again right there in the hallway.

Mom looked surprised at Drew's outburst, but quickly cleared her throat and composed herself.

"I know," she said in a high voice that made Drew feel 2 inches tall, "but I _am _responsible for you, and I want to get to the bottom of this. Whether you like it or not."

She smiled, but it was clear that she was still upset. It was weird; Adam used the "you're not my dad" card all the time (most often, bizarrely, against Drew), but it didn't seem to be nearly as hurtful as when Drew used Mom's step-status against her. Maybe it was because Audra really tried - not that Dad _didn't_, but out of the two of them, she was definitely the more 'hands on' as a parent. She always made sure to never leave Drew out or to make him feel excluded, sometimes even to the detriment of her _actual _child.

"I know you're just trying to help," said Drew quietly as he stared at the floor, "but I can handle this on my own."

"I'm going to talk to Coach Armstrong again," Mom said, s her voice still sounded strangled, "get him to put pressure on the team."

"No!" Drew shouted, sounding more angry than he meant to "I'm 16 Mom, I don't need to you come rescue me all the time."

Mom put her face in her hands, sighed deeply then ran her fingers through her hair.

"Drew please," she said, her eyes shut, "I can't lose you too."

The words hurt more than having duct tape ripped from your mouth a hundred times in a row. It suddenly dawned on Drew that he had been defending the person who attacked him and attacking the person who was defending him. In that moment Drew realized why Mom was so uptight all the time, why she was being so stubborn and so over protective; Drew's pain paled in comparisons to hers. She had to feel needed just as much as Drew did.

Drew didn't care that he was in the hallway, or that he was currently the school's laughing stock or that he had earned a reputation as a Mama's boy.

He dropped his book bag to the ground and hugged his mother.

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oOo

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_Uh… there are a few things in the previous chapter that, due to not liking certain characters, may not make total sense:_

_1) Riley's text should have an 'at' symbol' (reading: early practice tomorrow, be at school for 8am)_

_2) Minisodes are better than episodes ('greater than' symbol doesn't show up.)_

_Fun fact: In Scotland we call saran wrap "cling film." Crazy, right?_

_In the next chapter: We discover the shocking truth behind who hazed Drew (hint: it was Riley)_


	20. Taking the Higher Ground

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "99 Problems (2)"_

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oOo

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Chapter 20 – Taking the Higher Ground

It has hard to imagine an upside to being hazed, but if there was one it was this; Drew now had leverage on Riley that didn't make him feel like a jerk. Threatening to out Riley for being gay was contemptible; threatening to out Riley for hazing someone was pretty defensible. It was justice. It was vigilantism. Drew was Batman. It made him feel significantly better about the whole thing; he would have thanked Riley for erasing his guilt if he hadn't been so publicly humiliated.

So Drew didn't feel remotely bad when Riley sheepishly approached him in the hallway at the end of lunchtime.

Riley tapped Drew on the shoulder as he was kneeling to put his books in his locker.

"Hey, thanks man," Riley said shrugging, "It was cool of you."

Drew agreed, it _was_ cool of him. He was finally getting to be the bigger man after two agonizing days of feeling small and petty.

"I mean nobody likes a snitch," Riley continued, removing any shred of credit Drew was willing to give him, "But I feel kinda bad…"

Drew stood up, becoming level with Riley. He wasn't going to make Riley feel better, he didn't have to – he already had the higher ground.

"Youfeel _kinda bad_ that the whole school saw me wrapped up like a sandwich?"

"I really appreciate you bailing me out," Riley said noncommittally – he wasn't going to back down either.

"I didn't do it for you dumb ass," Drew said, slamming his locker shut, "zero tolerance; if I told we might forfeit the entire season. There's not much point making QB1 if there's no season."

"Making it?" said Riley, trying to sound meaningful, "you mean by threatening to tell the world that some guy's gay? That's heroic."

If Riley had said that to him the day before, Drew might have felt bad. But Drew had the moral upper hand now, so he wasn't going to lose any sleep.

"I don't care how gay or not gay you are – I just did you a huge favor back there," said Drew, pushing his pointed finger into Riley's chest (which was ok, because Drew was better than Riley now) "and now you owe me."

Drew started to walk away, but Riley wasn't finished.

"I'm supposed to just step aside?"

Drew stopped, turning to face Riley. He had nothing to feel guilty about – he was on the right side of this war.

"You do _not_ want me to force you"

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oOo

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Drew was going to have to force him.

"Starting quarterback requires a leader, a man of skill strength and integrity-"

Armstrong was standing in the middle of the gym, holding Drew's QB1 uniform in his hand. Drew was pretending to be casual, but in all honesty he was itching to get his hands on that Panther's jersey. It wasn't just about Drew getting what he wanted of course, it was about good triumphing over Riley.

"- and that man, is Riley Stavros"

Drew started to move towards Armstrong; it took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn't the player Armstrong was looking for.

It didn't make sense. Drew was the protagonist now. He was supposed toget his reward.

Drew grabbed Riley's arm as he made his way to collect his uniform.

"I thought we had a deal."

"I changed my mind."

Drew had the distinct feeling that none of what was happening was fair. He looked at all the starters standing in a line in the middle of the gym. Drew was supposed to be among them, he deserved it – he was the _good guy_!

Armstrong apparently hadn't noticed this injustice as he nodded at the team.

"Okay Panthers, first big game today. Fully dressed and on the bus in 20 – let's go."

Drew dragged himself to the locker room and put his uniform on, not that he saw the point – he wasn't going to get any use out of it until senior year. He was letting the team down by letting Riley take charge. Drew was all out of ideas; Riley obviously cared a lot more about being quarterback that he did about being a decent human being; Drew had to wonder what kind of person could _do_ that? He had underestimated the depths to which Riley would stoop. Drew would need reinforcements.

Drew would need Mom.

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oOo

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Drew could hardly believe how glad he felt when Mom chased after Coach Armstrong on the way to the team bus, but he figured that being labelled a "mama's boy" was better than not being quarterback and letting the villain win.

Armstrong's pace quickened when he saw Mom waiting outside his office.

"Ah, coach Armstrong" she said, slinging her handbag over her shoulder as if it were some sort of weapon, "I don't understand: my son is hazed and nothing happens?"

"The investigation is ongoing Mrs. Torres," Armstrong said, walking faster still.

Mom stood infront of him, forcing him to stop.

"Drew was clearly targeted," Mom said, "and when he transferred to this school he expected a fair chance at starting quarterback."

"He was given a chance in tryouts like everybody else," Armstrong sighed.

Mom gave Armstrong one of her raptor head-tilts.

"But only one player was tied to the flagpole this morning."

Armstrong didn't respond; The Raptor Tilt had proved affective once again.

"Well you leave me with no choice," Mom said to Armstrong before turning to Drew, "I'm going to have to have another chat with the principal."

Drew didn't protest this time; he knew that it had to be done – for the greater good. He was feeling pretty confident as he made his way outside to the bus. Riley stopped him before he could reach the door.

"Dude, what's your mom doing here?" he hissed.

"If I can't play nobody can," Drew said. In any other situation it would have sounded bratty, but clearly this was different – Drew was absolutely in the right about this.

"Are you gonna rat on me?" Riley said, sounding panicked.

Drew wasn't going to rat on Riley – that would be sleazy. Instead he was just going to make Riley suffer.

"I don't have to."

Drew pushed past Riley, stepping outside. He looked over to the flagpole by the front entrance of the school; it was hard to believe that he had been wrapped to it just hours earlier, it didn't feel like the same _week_ let alone the same day. Drew wasn't sure how much more _excitement _he could handle in one day.

He stepped onto the bus, hoping to sit beside K.C. or Zane, who were the only decent people on the whole team – Drew was going to blame this on poor leadership, making the whole thing Riley's fault (even though Riley had only been team captain for 20 minutes). But both K.C. and Zane had already found bus partners with other starters. Drew couldn't help but feel betrayed and skulked to an empty seat at the back of the bus. He was going to pull out his phone and pretend to text in order to feel a little less pathetic when someone sat down beside him.

"So, how badly do you think we're gonna kick Bardell's asses today?"

Owen Milligan was surprisingly casual, apparently unaware of the reason behind why Drew was glaring at him.

"_What?"_

"You wrapped me butt naked to a flagpole."

"Yeah, this _morning," _Owen said, scoffing, "man, you really know how to hold a grudge!"

"I thought you were my friend," Drew said, making himself embarrassed by how whiny he sounded.

"We _are_ friends," Owen said, shrugging, "but you're the new kid and you think you're hot stuff so - c'mon dude; you were kinda asking for it."

Drew tried not to relent, but Owen could be surprisingly charming when he wanted to, he reminded Drew of himself; it was like looking into a mirror - it was annoying.

Owen sighed.

"Fine, after the game me and my pal Fitz are going to The Dot for coffee and subs, you can come with – I'll even buy you a sandwich, or a slice of pie or whatever!"

Drew could feel his resolve softening; he _did _like pie.

"You'll pay for my coffee too?"

Owen cackled and high-fived Drew.

"Hah, that's more like it."

The bus took off. Despite Armstrong's orders to stay seated, K.C. came over to chat excitedly about the game for a little while, making Drew feel a little big guilty about what was going to happen when they got to Bardell.

Because if Mom had done her job, nobody would be playing any football that day.

Armstrong got the call the second they arrived, the timing couldn't have been more perfect - it was as if the scene had been written that way.

"Hold up guys," he said as the team started jumping out of the bus, "yeah… ok…"

Armstrong hung up, his face revealed the news long before his words did.

"I just got an order from the school board," he sighed. "Until they investigate today's incident, The Panthers won't be playing football."

The reaction was predictable, with people crying out injustice and sulking in disappointment, but it didn't make Drew feel any better about the whole situation, even if it was necessary to right the wrongs of the world – or at least Drew's world.

Apparently Drew wasn't the only one who felt bad about what was happening to the team.

"I have something to tell everyone," Riley shouted over the noise. "All this happened because I'm… I- …"

Drew looked around him, he was finding it hard to believe that what was happening was actually happening. Was Riley really going to come out, right there infront the team?

"I shouldn't be the starting quarterback of this team, he finished. "The flagpole thing? It was me… I was scared I couldn't beat Drew."

Armstrong looked disappointed, then fortunately he switched to angry.

"Drew? Looks like you have the start, son" he said before beckoning to Riley.

"Come with me."

Riley walked slowly over to Armstrong, passing Drew on his way. He said something that Drew thought he'd never hear Riley say.

"You win."

Armstrong walked away with Riley. The rest of the team took a few seconds to realize that this meant that they were allowed to play and cheered in confused, hesitant celebration.

Drew had won; he had defeated evil and saved the day.

Drew followed the delighted team to the field. It was the lousiest he had felt all week.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to take the higher ground any more.

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oOo

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_- Damn Drew, all that cognitive dissonance must be pretty exhausting!_

-_ I have now transcribed every Drew scene up to the end of boiling point – I feel strangely accomplished! _

_In the next chapter: Owen takes Drew out for pie!_


	21. MarkMarc

Chapter 21: Mark/Marc

_Where are you? I thought we were hanging out after the game today!_

Drew didn't have to read the header telling him that the text message was from Adam; only he would text with full spelling and punctuation.

_Had 2 C some ppl. B bak soon._

Drew hit send under the table and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He was sitting in the Dot while Owen and his friend Fitz, ordered their food and drinks. He still hadn't decided whether or not it was a good idea to be there, or whether to bury the hatchet with Owen; the way he treated Zane still really bothered him – Owen may have came across as just a dumb jock, but Drew couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was more to Owen's jerky ways than met the eye.

Then there was Fitz.

Drew had heard of Fitz before, the resident school psychopath. Drew supposed that every school had to have one, and surely Fitz couldn't have been as bad as the one at Drew's old school. But as soon as Owen introduced the two, Drew felt an eerie sense of déjà vu and he wasn't exactly sure why.

Fitz was already occupying a table in the Dot when Owen and Drew walked in. Despite being a skinny guy, he seemed to command a lot of space, as if people instinctively knew to be afraid of him.

He acknowledged Owen with a nod.

"Drew, this is Fitz; Fitz, Drew."

"Hey," Drew said, extending his hand to Fitz to shake.

Fitz didn't take it, instead reclining further back into his chair and grinning.

"So, we finally get to put a face to the name," he jeered, loudly enough for everyone to hear him, "sit down pole boy."

Drew wasn't sure why, but he felt himself instinctually obeying Fitz's commands, it was like second nature to him, like he had been doing it for years despite only having just met him.

But he just seemed so familiar.

"We're getting Drew here some no-hard-feelings pie," Owen said.

"_We_?" Fitz repeated.

"Oui," Owen said smirking, "c'mon."

Fitz shrugged, pushed his seat forward and went to the counter with Owen. Drew watched them as they ordered, playing off one another like they had been doing it forever. Drew would have assumed that Owen would be the one in charge, due to status and stature alone, but Fitz seemed to have a pretty good hold over Owen – Owen apparently knew all too well that you can't control crazy. Drew had long since learned this lesson too.

Drew's train of thought was interrupted by his phone going off again.

_Well don't be too long, I found out something awesome today (you'll never guess which movie was filmed at our school!)_

Drew replied, intrigued to find out the answer.

_Do we hav it in r DVD colctn?_

A few moments later, the reply came.

Yes – you can probably quote it from beginning to end.

"Who you texting?"

Drew looked up, Owen and Fitz had returned with their order. He shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"No one," Drew said, taking his plate, "just my kid brother wondering when I'm getting back."

"Annoying kid brother?" Owen said in a strangely bitter voice, "what a drag."

Drew had no time to wonder why Owen mood suddenly shifted. At that very moment Fitz sat up, nudging Owen.

"Dude, check it out," he said, "it's ballet boy."

Drew turned around, a grade 10 boy he was sure was called Dave had just walked through the door and took a seat at a small table in the corner. Drew recognized him from the game earlier; he and some other teners were dancing on the sidelines. Drew probably wouldn't have paid too much attention to them if it hadn't been for the incredibly pretty girl leading them.

"C'mon," Fitz said to Owen, prompting both of them to stand up and walk over to Dave.

Drew didn't know what to do, should he join them? Stop them? Sit there? Leave?

His phone buzzed again.

_Ok, you're taking too long, here's a hint: it's the most Canadian movie ever made, eh?_

"Yo, Turner," Drew heard Owen say, causing Drew, and the rest of the Dot, to turn around.

Dave, despite being the only Turner in the café and sitting in the furthest corner with his back against the wall, looked over his shoulder to see if Owen could possibly be addressing anyone else.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Owen continued, sitting down beside Dave whilst Fitz sat at the other side of him, blocking his escape.

"Tell you what?" Dave said apprehensively after a few moments of silence, it was then that Drew realized that the whole place had turned silent.

"How much you like to dance," Fitz said, grabbing Dave's shoulder and nudging him, before raising his voice loud enough for the hushed audience to hear, "I mean, did you see this guy? He's got some moves, don't you Turner?"

Dave said nothing, Fitz yanked him closer.

"C'mon, man, don't be ungrateful, I just paid you a compliment," Fitz said, tilting his head, "what have you got to say for yourself?"

"Thank you," Dave said, staring at the table.

""Thank you for what?" Fitz asked.

"Thank you for liking my dancing."

Fitz grinned.

"You're welcome Turner," he said, turning his head to address the rest of the café, "I think everyone else wants to see you dance too, don't they?"

Dave tried to get up, but Owen pushed him back down into his seat.

"Oh, I think they do," Owen said with an abundance of faux enthusiasm, "I think you should show them your moves right now."

Fitz and Owen pulled Dave up by the armpits and forced him to stand on the table. Drew knew that he should have done something at that point, but he was really, really hoping that someone else was going to do it instead; someone who hadn't been wrapped naked to a flagpole earlier that same day.

Another buzz.

_Man, how are you not getting this? Maybe you should MEWES on it a little longer? ;p_

"Go on Turner," Fitz yelled, "dance for us!"

Dave looked around, wordlessly pleading for someone to help him. Fitz moved to the other side of the table so that Dave could see him.

"What are you waiting for? Dance?"

"Hey!"

Drew turned to the counter where the barista, Peter, had appeared from the kitchen and now stood defiantly behind the counter.

Owen and Fitz turned around to face Peter as Dave climbed off the table.

"I think it's time for you two to go."

"Oh what you gonna do, call your mommy?" Owen said, "she isn't in charge anymore, Stone."

"Well you know what? You're in my place and _I'm_ in charge," Peter said, "so get out. Both of you."

Fitz shrugged and headed for the door with Owen.

"Whatever," he said, "this place blows anyway."

Peter clapped his hands together.

"Oh no," he deadpanned, "you're right, what are we going to do without the daring antics of Owen Milligan and _whatever_ Fitzgerald."

Fitz's face turned hard as eyes lowered and mouth tightened. Drew knew that face, he knew what it meant, he knew who it belonged to.

Suddenly he realized who Fitz reminded him off.

Fitz walked out the door, not taking his eyes off Peter.

"It's Mark."

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oOo

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_- Ah, the beloved "txt spk" is back. Also "colctn?" oh Drew…_

_- Also, Adam – MEWES on it? Your puns are bad and you should feel bad!_

_In the next chapter: Y'know what we've not had in a while? A flashback! _


	22. Broken Promises

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "Better off Alone (1)"_

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oOo

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Chapter 22 – Broken Promises

"What about the green and blue-y one?"

"Sure why not?"

"You said that about the red and gray one."

"Have you noticed that you own the same shirt in about 12 different colors?"

"I have a style. It works for me, now… which one?"

Drew held up both shirts again. Adam pretended to deeply contemplate his decision.

"Uh… green and blue," he said, nodding.

"You're right," Drew said, putting the chosen shirt on, "it's more laid back, it says: _hey, I can be the new kid and show up to your party – what's the big deal_?"

"Yup, that's exactly what I just said."

Drew finished fastening the last (well, third to last) button and sat on the bed next to Adam.

"You sure I can't convince you to come?"

"Not a chance," Adam said grinning, "I have no desire to spend my evening in a crowded house trying to talk to people I barely know over crappy music playing way too loudly."

"You know," Drew said, slapping Adam on the back, "I think your sense of fun if one of your finer qualities."

"Whatever," Adam said, good-naturedly punching Drew on the shoulder. "Now go: attend your thrown-together-at-the-last-minute-on-a-school-night party," before adding in his best frat-boy impression "_it's gonna be a blast, dude!_"

Drew stood up and grabbed his keys.

"Fine, don't wait up."

"No need," Adam scoffed, picking up his comic book and flicking to the last-read page, "I guarantee you'll be back before 11."

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oOo

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The party was already in full swing when Drew arrived. Adam was right; he knew practically no one there. He was hoping that Sav would be present at the very least, or K.C., who was in the same grade as Sav's sister – the hostess.

He remembered the last house party he went to, back when he still lived in Vancouver, back when life was still relatively normal. He actually knew everybody at that one. Unfortunately, that included Natalie Wagner.

oOo

_Drew walked into Gracie's room without knocking; she was lying in her bed, wrapped in a blanket. Her best friend Nat was snuggled in beside her, pressing feet on top of Gracie's_

_"Is that better?" she asked Gracie, who responded with a goofy shrug._

_"A little I guess, but your attempts to warm my toes are sadly in vain; I have perpetually cold hands and feet."_

_"And terrible penmanship," Drew said, forcing the girls to acknowledge his presence for the first time, "you're destined to be a physician, sis."_

_"Hey Drew," Nat sing-songed playfully, "we're watching The Notebook."_

_"It's the film that defined a generation," Gracie deadpanned. Nat pushed her teasingly before smiling at Drew._

_"Wanna join us?" Nat asked, gesturing to the bed._

oOo

"Hey, Torres," a boy Drew didn't even remotely recognize called from the living room, "great first game!"

"Uh thanks," Drew said, moving into the Bhandari's living room where a Rock Band tournament was taking place.

"You play?" another boy (again, no recognition) asked, nodding to the plastic guitar he had around his neck.

"Yeah," Drew replied, approaching the drum kit.

"Wait," said the guitar boy holing his hand up, "there's a waiting list for the drums."

Drew stopped; everyone always wanted the drums.

"But you can have this right now," guitar boy said, lifting up the glorified controller hanging around his neck.

Drew wasn't completely satisfied with having to be the guitarist, but took it anyway.

"Let's rock and roll!" he said, causing the partygoers in the room to cheer.

oOo

_He didn't hear her come into the kitchen. He jumped when he saw her; trying to cover the embarrassment he felt having her see in just his vest and boxers._

_Nat didn't seem to mind. She seemed quite pleased actually. Drew had been working out more since he had made the football team, he had noticed a change in his physique – apparently other people could see it too._

_He felt a grin appear on his face despite himself. _

_"Don't mind me," she said, looking unperturbed as she brushed past Drew to get herself a glass of water._

_She had been spending a lot of time at the Torres house; coming over after school to do homework with Gracie, coming over for lunch at the weekend, having cozy little slumber parties. She didn't need any help in finding her way around the kitchen._

_"How was the movie?" Drew asked, trying to act casual._

_"Great," she said, reaching for a glass in the cabinet, "we're watching Pulp Fiction next – Gracie's choice, not mine."_

_She ran her finger slowly around the rim of the glass._

_Drew swallowed._

_"Uh, my sister really likes having you as a friend," he said, taking a step backwards, "you're like one of the family." _

_"Thanks," she grinned, "it's been fun getting closer to the other members of the Torres family."_

_She leaned over to the sink to turn the water on. Drew tried his hardest to ignore her – she was only in grade 9, she was Gracie's best friend, she definitely off limits._

_But, man, she was pretty, with big dark eyes and long dark hair._

oOo

She had big dark eyes and long dark hair. Drew didn't want to say that he had a type, but if he did, Alli Bhandari would fit the mould.

She was leaning against the doorframe, watching Drew play his little toy guitar to a cheering crowd.

Drew tried to ignore her, he was about to finish "Should I Stay or Should I Go" with a 4 star rating (it would have been five had he been allowed to play the drums, he told himself.) But more than that, she was in grade 10 and he had made a promise to Adam to stay away from tener girls.

"Good job," she said when the song had finished, "if you're getting bored, a bunch of us are going to play I Never. Somewhere a little… quieter."

Drew took a deep breath in before answering; he had given Adam his word.

But Adam wasn't there, and it was only a dumb game at a party.

"Sure," he said, pulling the guitar over his head, "sounds like fun."

oOo

_"Nat asked me out for coffee today. She said she wanted to talk to me about something important."_

_Gracie was in wall mode, one of those rare times when Drew couldn't figure her out. Her face and words were expressionless as she sat across from her brother on the couch._

_"She really likes you," she continued, "she wanted to know if I think you'd… you'd be interested in her."_

_Drew shuffled closer to Gracie on the couch._

_"And what did you say?"_

_"I said I didn't know," Gracie shrugged._

_"You didn't know?" Drew echoed, "what the hell Gracie?"_

_"Well let's be honest, you tend to become disinterested in girls almost immediately after you become interested in them. Nat's my best friend, she deserves a nice guy."_

_Drew stood up._

_"Oh, so you're saying I'm not a nice guy? Thanks."_

_Gracie stood up too, despite being a year younger and head shorter, she stood her ground._

_"Really? Name one girl, who wasn't just a hook up, that you haven't cheated on or cheated with?"_

oOo

"Never have I ever… lied to my folks."

Dave had started off the game. He sat close to Alli and wasted no time being exchanging pleasantries with Drew. Was he mad at Drew for not helping him at the Dot, or was he trying to keep the other guys away from Alli?

Drew briefly considered taking off his watch, the logical first choice. But as he looked around the room, filled with a dozen or so people and significantly more girls (the bulk of whom seemed to be sitting around Drew) than boys, he noticed that Alli was smiling at him.

He took off his "_hey, I can be the new kid and show up to your party – what's the big deal" _shirt first.

Alli's smile widened.

"With questions like _that _I'll be naked in 10," Drew said, not taking his eyes off Alli.

Dave sighed loudly, shaking Alli out of her daze.

"Alli, your turn."

"Wha-?"

"Your turn."

Alli blinked absently.

"Oh, right, um – why don't we let Drew show us how it's done."

Honestly, it would be rude to against the hostess' wishes.

" If you insist," Drew said, "never have I ever… sexted."

Alli threw her bracelet into the pile

"It's a long story."

Drew shrugged.

"It always is"

oOo

_Hey sexy. Missing u xx_

_It was Rebecca Ford. Drew lay on the bed watching, or pretending to watch, 27 Dresses with Nat. She seemed to accept that the movie wasn't really his scene and didn't' protest his texting._

_"Who ya talking to?" She asked, nudging his side with her toes._

_"Just Marc," he said, replying to Rebecca as nonchalantly as possible, "he's just going through some plays."_

_How much do u miss me?_

_He could feel himself grinning as he pressed send. There was something exciting about sitting on the couch with one girl and texting another. All Nat had to do was glance over to the screen and he'd be busted._

_But that was the best part about the whole thing_

_YOU HAVE (1) PICTURE MESSAGE_

_Well, second best thing._

oOo

"Your turn," Drew said, nodding to Alli.

"Never have I ever liked anyone in this room"

Before Drew had anytime to respond, Alli was slowly taking off her jacket, her gaze never leaving his.

Dave, who had thrown off his own jacket, laughed nervously.

"Ali you're only supposed to take something off if you _haven't_ done it."

Ali looked away innocently.

"Guess I'm still getting the hang of this game. "

Drew took off his watch and waited for the next person to take their turn

A cute redhead in the corner piped up.

"Oh-oh, me! Never have I ever cheated."

A small number of people hesitantly threw something into the pile. Drew avoided eye contact with Alli as he took off one of his shoes.

oOo

_"How could you do this to me?"_

_Nat was holding Drew's phone in her trembling hand, her face red with tears and anger; a phone containing weeks of texts, of photos, of different girls who apparently understood the rules much better than Nat did._

_"Nat I didn't mean to hurt you," Drew said, holding his hands up against his torso, anticipating the phone to be thrown at him at some point, "but I thought you understood what we were."_

_"I did, Drew," she said, her face contorting, "I was your loyal girlfriend, and you were a two-timing creep."_

_Drew's preparedness served him well when Nat hurled the phone at Drew's head._

_"We never talked about being exclusive," he said, lowering his hands now that Nat had no more projectiles. "We didn't discuss labels."_

_"You took my virginity, Drew, I think it goes without saying!" she wiped her face. "Gracie was right about you. She warned me, she-"_

_Nat took a deep sigh and composed herself._

_"You're a shallow pathetic idiot, who just uses girls because you're so scared you'll fail at being a boyfriend that you throw away anything resembling a meaningful relationship."_

_Her words hurt more that any number of phone lobbing ever could, and hit with a much better aim. Drew couldn't help but suspect that someone they both knew had let her in on that aspect of Drew's insecurities._

_"You know what? You deserve your little skanks – they have just as little self respect as you do."_

oOo

"Wow," said the redhead, who had crawled out of the corner and claimed a seat next to Drew. "You must work out. Like, a lot!"

Drew made a decent display of modesty before nodding to the girl.

"Yeah, it isn't easy – takes a lot of discipline."

Everyone in the room had now taken a turn, they were back to Dave, who was now glaring at Drew so intensely, Drew was sure he was just seconds from lunging at him.

"This is so much fun," sail Alli, clapping gleefully.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," Dave sighed, hunching down in his seat.

"Well, come one Dave," said Alli, shaking Dave's arm enthusiastically, "it hasn't even gotten R-rated yet!"

"Ok," said Dave, pushing himself in to a straight-sitting position again and staring directly at Drew, "never have I ever made a move on a friend's crush."

oOo

_"Does she still hate me?"_

_"No, Andrew; she's totally over it. She wants you to know that there's no hard feelings- of course she still hates you!"_

_Gracie was pacing, while Drew sat sheepishly on the couch. It was weird, usually angry pacing was Drew' M.O., but Gracie was an admirable substitute._

_"I thought you told her I didn't do serious," he complained, folding his arms defiantly._

_"I did," Gracie said, sighing, "I think she thought she'd be the one to change you."_

_"Well see? That's her problem. You can't change me, she should've known better."_

_"I told you to back off, Drew!" Gracie yelled, "she's my best friend. I watched The Notebook for her. The Notebook. Damnit Drew if I were you, I swear to god, I would-"_

_"-You would what?" Drew asked, "no, really – what would you do if you were me."_

_"If I were you, and I were lucky enough to get any girl I wanted, I'd treat her like a freaking princess! I'd give her everything she deserved and I'd do everything in my power to never let her go!"_

_Gracie stopped pacing and pulled her hair away from her progressively redder face, processing what she had just said._

_"But I'm not you."_

_It wasn't angry or frustrated, or anything Drew could figure out. It was wall Gracie again._

_"Now she won't talk to either of us," she eventually said, staring at the floor._

_"Why?" Drew asked perplexed, "what did you do?"_

oOo

"Wow dude, you really _are_ going to be naked in 10 at this rate," Dave said as Drew threw his other shoe into the pile, "level with me – is there anything you _haven't_ done?"

Drew chewed on his tongue as he waited for someone else to speak up.

"It's your turn Drew," Alli said, less enthusiastic than she had been before.

Dave raised his eyebrows.

He had no _idea_ who he was messing with.

Drew started taking off his belt.

"Never have I ever wanted to make out with someone in this room."

Alli's eyes widened, she shot up off her chair and started rummaging through the pile of clothes, grabbing Drew's watch.

"Uh, wow, how did it get to be… 8 o'clock!"

Drew stood up too, regaining his cool.

"Yeah, we should probably jet, let you get your beauty sleep."

Dave looked around the room, trying to get a hold the situation.

"No-no, the party's just about to get awesome!"

"Well all the more reason to end it – leave it on a high," said Ally, still in flighty mode. "Thanks for coming everyone!"

Everyone pulled themselves from their seats and started to pick up their clothes. Alli and Dave were talking in hushed voices, but she was looking at Drew, even as Dave hugged her, she maintained eye contact with Drew, who acknowledged her with a smirk.

One-by-one people started filing out of the room, until only Drew and Alli remained.

Drew pulled a face and followed the rest of the guests out.

He would have stayed longer, but then Alli might have just _given_ him his watch back.

And he wanted to stay on her mind just a little bit longer.

.

oOo

.

Drew must have managed to give it a solid 20 minutes before returning to the Bhandari house, he couldn't be totally sure of how long he waited – he didn't have his watch.

He knocked on the door. Alli answered almost immediately.

She had been waiting.

"I seem to be missing a watch," Drew said offhandedly, letting himself into the hallway.

Alli shook the watch innocently infront of Drew.

"Oops!"

Drew took a step closer to Alli. She didn't back away.

She let out a nervous giggle.

"So, do you want to hang out more or… something?"

Drew took a good look Alli, he knew she was Sav's little sister, he knew that Dave liked her, he knew that she was in Adam's grade. He knew there was a code.

But that had never stopped him before.

"Or something."

Drew slammed the door shut and kissed Alli. He could feel the cool metal of his watch in her hands as she wrapped her arms around him. She tasted like strawberries, or it could have been raspberries, definitely some sort a berry– whatever; she tasted good. Her taste lingered as she slowly pulled back.

"Ok, wow!" she said.

"Yeah, wow just about covers it," Drew said, moving his hands down to her waist.

She pushed him off her, but she was still smiling, so Drew took it to be a good sign.

"My brother will be home soon," she said, "but we should do this again sometime."

"Definitely," Drew said through a goofy grin he just couldn't seem to shake.

"Maybe we, uh, can add more things to our _I Never_ list."

Drew secured his watch back on his wrist, Alli took his hands and put them back around her waist.

"But, before you go? Here's something to remember me by."

Strawberries, without doubt, it was strawberries.

.

oOo

.

Drew used every last ounce of willpower he had not to skip home. He felt himself smile as he found his keys are unlocked the door.

He was greeted with a familiar voice.

"10:43!" Adam said, sitting triumphantly on the couch watching explosions on the television. "Man, for a moment there, I actually thought you were going to prove me wrong."

Drew said nothing as he locked the door behind him. He was no longer at the party; he was back to reality, and in reality actions had consequences.

"So how was the party?" Adam asked, muting the TV. "Did everyone get crazy drunk on root beer? Did her parents let you watch pay-per-view?"

Drew slowly walked from the hallway into the living room, collapsing onto the armchair.

Adam stared at him, confused.

"What happened dude?"

"Adam? There's something we need to talk about."

.

oOo

.

_- No Drew, you broke your promise… only, we all knew you were going to break your promise so, never mind I guess?_

_- Adam is a true gentleman – he'll watch The Notebook for you! _

_In the next chapter: Adam reacts to Drew's hook up with Alli._


	23. A Poor Excuse

_Hey all – I meant to bring it up before, but… THANK YOU for 100+ reviews (and giving me the encouragement to get to 50,000 words – I still can't quite believe it!)_

_You guys rule!_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "Better off Alone (2)"_

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oOo

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Chapter 23 – A Poor Excuse

"So, who is she?"

"Who?"

"The girl you're into, that's why we had "_the talk_" last night, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh yes you do. Is it someone I know?"

"How am I supposed to know which girls you know – we're new!"

"C'mon Adam, don't hold out on me."

Drew stood infront of his brother, forcing him to stop walking towards the school. His good mood had carried on from the previous evening's make-out session with Alli, especially since his fear of how Adam would react to the news had been so quickly dissipated.

He thought back to the night before, bounding in the front door much earlier than his midnight curfew required him to, Adam watching a movie in the living room, turning around as he heard the door close.

"10:43! Man, for a moment there, I actually thought you were going to prove me wrong."

Drew felt nervous, he had previously promised Adam that he wouldn't go after girls in his grade (and in return Adam would stay away from juniors, not that that was a huge concern for Drew). Now he had come home with Alli Bhandari on his breath.

"So how was the party?" Did everyone get crazy drunk on root beer? Did her parents let you watch pay-per-view?"

Drew made a seat for himself on the armchair whilst Adam looked on in bafflement.

"What happened dude?"

"Adam? There's something we need to talk about," Drew started, "about that rule we made?"

"No eye gouging?"

"No- the _other _one; the one about not going out with girls in one-another's grades?"

Adam turned the muted television set off; he was ready for a serious talk.

"Oh, good. At least we don't have to have _another _conversation about the dangers of eye gouging."

Drew clasped his hands together in a bid to look serious; he was annoyed that Adam was acting cool when Drew was trying so hard not be a bad guy.

"I think we need to… amend the girl rule."

There was a silence, Drew could hear the high hum emitting from the TV, the light ticking of his watch; the_ I Never _watch; the one Alli gave him in return for-

"I agree."

Drew obviously hadn't heard Adam properly, he wasn't paying attention; he was distracted by watches. And strawberries. And that way Alli ran her tongue across her teeth before she kissed him.

"Beg your pardon?"

"You're right," Adam said, shuffling around to properly face Drew, "it's stupid to make up a rule about who we are and aren't allowed to see before we even enroll! What if, I dunno, you meet the girl of your dreams; you can't just blow her off because she's in the wrong grade."

Drew felt himself nodding enthusiastically; it was all going surprisingly well. He felt a huge rush of appreciation towards Adam; how Drew lucky enough to land such a cool brother?

"So…" he eventually said to his awesome, awesome brother, "new rule?"

"Yeah: date who you like," Awesome Adam said, "within the confines of the guy code, of course."

"Motion passed," said Drew, standing up as if to make it official, "you mind if I hit the hay?"

"No," Awesome Adam said, also standing up, "I'm gonna head up in a sec too."

"Cool," Drew said, taking one last appreciative look at his amazing little brother before slinking up the stairs and into his room. This marked Drew's first one hundred percent _victory_ at Degrassi, and it felt good. Drew got what he wanted and nobody got hurt or stepped on; it was win/win all around.

He'd have to find a way to show his appreciation for Adam for being so cool and understanding – he wasn't getting anything out of changing the rules, at least as far as Drew could figure out; _was _there any advantage to Drew seeing a girl in Adam's grade?

As Drew put on his pajamas, he listened for Adam coming up the stairs. He was humming contentedly, which seemed an odd reaction. Not that Drew wanted Adam to be _unhappy, _but why was he being so _happy_?

Drew crawled into bed, he was sure he was missing something. Adam was acting like _he _was the one who had been given permission to see Alli.

No, wait. Not _Alli._

Grade 11 girls.

Drew sat up, realization washing over him. Adam liked a junior Adam liked a junior and was letting Drew think that he was changing the rules out of the goodness of his heart.

_That sly dog. _

Drew was not letting him get away with this.

He waited until they could both get away from Mom prying ears; after she dropped them off that the school entrance the next morning.

"So, who is she?"

Adam tried to play dumb, acting like he had no idea what Drew was talking out, but he eventually relented when Drew stood infront of him and stared him down.

Adam rolled his eyes.

"Fine, there's _maybe_ a girl I've had my eye on."

Drew grinned mischievously.

"Who?"

"Just, y'know, a girl in my gym class."

Drew did everything in his power not to pull a face. Adam wasn't in regular gym class; he took _remedial_ gym – a haven for heavily pregnant students, kids too obese to jog and anyone not considered "stable" enough for contact sport.

And Adam.

"And that's all you're getting," Adam said, pointing assuredly, "I'm still trying to work out a way to woo her during air hockey."

Drew smiled at poor, misguided Adam and walked through the front doors of Degrassi, following his brother to their first period math class; even _that_ couldn't dampen his mood. He looked around the class full of teners. He was allowed to get with any of them. He'd never taken a good look before; he hadn't felt like he was allowed. There were some nice looking girls in the class. Even _Jenna_, who was Satan in star earrings, was kind of cute, he guessed. He even felt himself smiling at her as the sharpened his pencil at the front of the class, which just seemed to confuse her more than anything else.

He sat back down and grinned as he copied Adam's worksheet – his potential hook-up pool had increased by 25%, that was the kind of math he liked; the sort that worked in his favor. It was like finding out that there was more than one flavor of ice cream, or that they made a sequel to Bill and Ted and that it was awesome!

He walked the halls free of apprehension, knowing that he could talk to any girl in school without repercussion.

By the time he got to football practice, he was actually relieved to give his eyes a break. K.C., on the other hand, came looking for a fight, Drew wondered for a hot second if he knew that he had checked out Jenna in class. He wondered if telling K.C. that he thought she was evil would make him more or less angry. Luckily, K.C. seemed more intent on letting out his frustration on Owen, allowing Drew to get back into blissful mode.

He even laughed at Dad's lame jokes at dinner that evening; usually only Adam did that, and even then it was only out of pity.

"-And then he says: Vancouver? I barley know her!"

"Ok, that doesn't even make sense," Adam, the joke connoisseur of the household, said. "How exactly do you _vancouv_ someone?"

"You'll find out when you're older," Dad said, grinning at the nonsensicalness of it all. He cleared his throat and turned to Drew, "I meant to ask you Drew - are you ok to Skype with your mother before dinner tomorrow?"

Drew, who had been quite contently eating his dinner, became more alert.

"Uh, yeah," he said, "what time?"

"Is five ok?"

"Yeah, five's perfect."

"Omar? Did you tell Cathy about…" Mom said, gesturing to Adam.

"My good grades?" said Adam pulling a hopeful face.

Mom sighed.

"She's _your_ ex-wife, it's your call," she said gently, "it's not like it's my mother, or Scott-"

"Wait, hold up," Adam said, leaning towards Mom over the table, "I thought you had told Grams already."

21 hours. That's how long they had gone without an incident. It had to be some sort of new record.

"I will," Mom said, still remaining quite calm, "I'm just… waiting for the right time."

"Thanksgiving's in a few weeks Mom," Adam said, voice rising slightly, "Grams and Dad have to know before then."

Mom took a deep breath, preparing for fireworks.

"I told Grams that she could go to Uncle Ged's for Thanksgiving; that we're still getting settled in here."

Adam took a few seconds to compose before replying; apparently he too didn't want to have yet another fight after such a good run.

"And Dad?"

"I doubt Scott's going to come all the way from Victoria for one night."

Adam looked around; to Dad who looked apologetic and then to Drew who hadn't a clue what he was supposed to do so just shrugged stupidly.

He looked back over at Mom.

"So that means?"

"-No family over for Thanksgiving. Not this year."

Adam pushed his plate away.

"May I be excused?" he asked, staring at the tablecloth.

Mom nodded, her hand pressed against her forehead.

Adam got up without saying a word and made his way upstairs to his room, quietly closing the door behind him. Drew briefly considered going after him, just to make sure that he was ok. But he was having a nice, normal, drama-free day, for _once_.

Adam would be fine.

He hoped.

.

oOo

.

Checking out girls was a lot easier when you didn't have to second guess or worry about what grade they were in. Drew suspected that his more relaxed admiration of the female form came across, since the girls seemed to smile back a lot more too. This of course had _absolutely nothing_ to do with Drew's recent promotion to QB1 or helping to win the first game of the season.

Lunch had barely started when a group of girls who _might_ have been at the party (they at least seemed a little familiar) approached him at his locker.

"Hey Drew," the one Drew presumed was eader said, twisting her hair around her finger. "You were really great at guitar hero the other night. Do you play for real?"

Drew stopped rearranging his books and turned to face the girls properly, as a group they were really quite attractive.

"Yeah," he said confidently, "but I'm more of a drummer really."

"Ooh," said another girl, this one a wide-eyed blond, "are you in a band?"

Drew hadn't been in a _real _band, or at least one that wrote their own songs, or did gigs, or had a name, but he had made a lot of his friends neighbor's angry by making a lot of "damn noise" in a few garages. This seemed good enough for the girls as they listened to him talk about music, hanging on his every word.

He got a big surprise when he heard a voice calling him from behind.

"Hey," Alli said eagerly, leaning against the lockers in a manner Drew guessed was supposed to be seductive. "I was wondering if you wanted to see Ghostbusters tonight."

The other girls scattered, leaving Alli alone with Drew. He avoided eye contact and pulled his book bag out of his locker. Was she asking him on a _date_? Like a _couples_ date?

"It's retro night at the varsity," she explained.

"Uh, yeah, I've already seen it," Drew said, hoping that would be a good enough excuse.

"That's kinda the point of retro night," Alli said lightly, "Or we could grab dessert? The dot makes a mean chocolate cheesecake."

Drew tried not to shudder, he could tell by the way she said dessert that she actually _meant_ dessert. Drew didn't do literal dessert with girls.

"I already have plans."

Alli looked slightly put out.

"So you're blowing me off?"

Drew felt himself denying this and wondering why; he had no obligation to spend any of his time with Alli. They made out at a party _once. _Well twice. Well a few times, plus a boob squeeze- but all of them where at the same party, so it really only counted as one.

Alli sighed.

"I get it."

Drew relaxed, she understood that a make out session was just a bit of fun, nothing to get deep and meaningful about.

"It's intense seeing after our make out session at my party."

No, that was the exact opposite of what _it_ was; Alli was making it intense.

Drew smirked anyway.

"It _was _pretty awesome." And that was all.

"Wasn't it?" Alli urged. "So let's this official."

Drew felt a strange sinking feeling as he realised that Alli wasn't going to accept that the _one-off, sole, singular_ make-out session that they had was just a bit of fun. She thought that there was a "_this_".

"Well, I'm flattered," he said, clutching onto his book back.

"You are?"

" Yeah, you're a smart and beautiful girl."

Ally titled her head; Drew had long learned that when a woman does this, it usually means danger.

"Well then everything's perfect right?"

Drew could feel a nagging voice, albeit a very quiet one, echoing Alli's sentiments; _wasn't everything perfect_? She _was _smart and beautiful; the other night _was_ pretty awesome, he _really liked_ Ghostbusters, and dessert – both kinds. Alli seemed like a cool person to spend time with, and Drew could see himself being really into her.

But she wanted to _be_ with him. She wanted to be part of his life. In a _relationship_.

Drew let out an unnecessarily long sigh.

"Nearly, he eventually said. "It's football season and I'm QB1, which means games, practices, workouts; I'm gonna be really busy."

Alli's enthusiasm faltered slightly, but she wasn't giving up.

"I don't mind," she stressed, refusing to break eye contact with him.

"You will," Drew said forcefully.

Her face fell; she had gotten the message.

"I wish things were different," he lied; he was smart enough to know that if _he_ didn't make a poor excuse to not date Alli, it would only be a matter of time before Alli make a _good_ excuse not to date him.

Drew walked away before Alli could protest, or yell, or cry, or do anything Drew didn't know how to deal with. His feel-good streak had finally been broken. As he paid for his lunch, he remembered that he owed Adam a pep talk; he had neglected to give him a much-needed one the evening before, not wanting to tarnish his good mood.

Plus, Drew felt that he needed a pep talk too.

He sat by his brother, who didn't seem too bothered by being at a table by himself, and scanned Adam's lunch.

"You got tots?"

"Good afternoon to you too," Adam said dryly.

"I didn't see tots when I was up."

"Well if you didn't take ten minutes to get to the cafeteria-"

"I'll trade you half my fries for half your tots," Drew offered.

Adam weighed his options carefully.

"Ok," he said, holding his hand up before Drew could rearrange the plates, "but I want half your cake for half my peas."

"Sounds good to me," Drew said, trying again to make the trade before Adam stopped him.

"So you _are_ after something."

"Dude, c'mon," Drew sighed, "I'm really hungry here! Besides, I _like_ peas."

Adam stared him down; Drew could feel his lunch getting colder infront of him.

"There's this girl."

Drew explained his dilemma to Adam between, and occasionally through, bites of his lunch. When he was done, Adam nodded pensively, taking his time before answering.

"Wow, Alli must have been really into you if she was willing to forgive you for blowing off Ghostbusters. It's _Ghostbusters_, dude – _I'm_ struggling to forgive you right now!"

"I know!" Drew said helplessly. "What should I do?"

"Have you leaned nothing from past experiences?" Adam said, Drew noting just a _hint_ of darkness in his voice.

"Have I?" Drew replied.

Adam went back to staring. He was getting really quite good at it

"C'mon Adam - help me out here!"

"You need to communicate your intensions," Adam said, perhaps slightly too condescendingly. "Tell her what you want, then she'll tell you what she wants, and if it all works out, you'll get rid of half your peas for a slice of red velvet cake."

"Was that a euphemism?"

"I'm not sure," Adam said, looking up at the ceiling. "It got kinda lost in the middle…"

Adam trailed off but Drew thought about what he said, bizarre metaphors aside. He just had to _explain_ to Alli that he just liked making out with her? Was it really that simple?

"I think that helped," Drew said. "And for that I _give _you my _thanks_."

Adam's eyes darted back to Drew, narrowing as they did so.

"And since were on the subject; Thanksgiving – you gonna be ok?"

"Yeah," Adam said, focusing intently on the crumbs of red velvet cake in front of him. He started flicking them away absentmindedly.

"Because if you're not, you need to _communicate your intentions_," Drew said, pulling his most winning smile. "See what I did there?"

Adam perked up, if only a little bit.

"_I'm_ not the one with the communication problem; _she_ is."

"I know right?" said Drew, still smiling. "_Women_, huh? Nothing but trouble!"

"Yeah," said Adam, finally cheering up, "it's too bad you're so _attracted_ to trouble!"

.

oOo

.

Drew found Alli after school, sitting on a bench in the hallway reading a magazine. She looked to be in a good mood.

But that changed when Drew sat down beside her.

"So," he said to a rigid, unresponsive Alli. "I spent all afternoon thinking about you."

"Great," she said sharply. "What amazing idea did you come up with?"

Drew knew the answer to that: communicate your intentions.

"I still want to spend time with you," he said, perhaps imagining Alli loosening a little.

"If you want," he added, because he couldn't forget to find out what she wanted too – especially when dessert was at stake.

Alli considered this for a moment, before snuggling in and taking Drew's hand.

Adam was a genius. Who else would have realized that being honest about what you wanted would get you what you wanted?

"We could catch that movie?" Alli said, squeezing Drew's fingers. Trapping them under hers.

Drew wanted to pull away, to say he was too busy, or even that he couldn't see a movie because he had to Skype with Mommy.

But that wasn't good communication.

"Or," he said, leaning in and whispering to Alli, "we could go make out somewhere."

Ally stared at Drew for a few seconds, had he been too blunt? Was she going to get offended and storm off?

She slinked in closer.

"Well," she said playfully, "my parents won't be home for another hour."

Drew could feel a grin appear on his face, delighted at how easy the whole thing had been.

"Perfect."

.

oOo

.

Drew got home just before five, not bothering to greet anyone before darting to his room. No one stopped him; they knew he had an engagement.

As his computer booted up he fixed himself in the mirror. Alli Bhandari had left her mark – literally. He fixed his hair and readjusted his clothes, but the telltale red marks around his neck would be a little harder to hide. He popped his collar up slightly. It would have to do.

It was worth it.

He gave himself one last glance in the mirror and logged onto Skype.

The move from Vancouver to Toronto turned to 16-hour time difference to a 14 hour one, making it slightly more awkward to find a good time to call Ma. Usually Drew would have jumped on the computer straight after school, chatting to her when she had her breakfast, now he had to wait until just before dinner to call, leaving Drew more impatient – and hungry.

Drew drummed on the desk as he waited for the connection to take place. He had shared e-mails with Ma since moving to Toronto, but it wasn't really the same thing as talking to someone there and then. Drew wasn't particularly good at writing his feelings down, he'd read over them, feel stupid and delete the whole thing, leaving a short, impersonal news blurb in its place.

Suddenly, the connection screen was replaced by the image of a bespectacled man with bed head, sitting at a large kitchen table.

"How you doing Andy?"

_Andy,_ Geoff always called Drew that; he hated it, but couldn't really complain (it could have been worse; it wasn't until Drew was 11 that Geoff finally dropped the "Pandy" part)

"Morning Geoff," Drew said, settling into his usual routine, "how's tomorrow?"

"It's looking good, you're gonna love it," Geoff chimed before downing his coffee. "You still getting taller?"

Drew wasn't sure what gave him that idea, considering he was sitting down and at the other side of a webcam.

"Not that I've noticed."

Geoff poured himself another coffee.

"You got a girl in Toronto yet?"

Drew thought of Alli, the girl he'd just spent a good 45 minutes making out with. He wasn't too sure if that counted.

"No, not yet Geoff."

"Oh, c'mon Andy, you're letting the side down!"

"Nonsense, you're 16, Drew – don't let yourself get tied down."

Ma nudged Geoff over and sat down infront of the webcam.

"Hey sweetie."

"Hi Ma."

Ma ran her hands through her wild curly hair; she looked significantly younger than her age, with wide eyes, street clothes and bounding energy. She could never sit still and was constantly backed up by the sound of drumming fingernails or a foot tapping rhymically against a table leg.

Nothing about her would make someone think that she was someone's mother.

"Look at you," she said, resting her chin on her hand, "don't pay attention to the guy - you're far too handsome to be trapped with one girl."

Drew didn't know how to respond, was his own mother was telling him to sleep around?

"Uh?"

"Variety is the spice of life, Drew!" she said, throwing her arms out as if trying to grab Drew's shoulder's through the screen.

"Cool," Drew said awkwardly, "I like spices."

"There must be some cute ladies that you have your eye on," she said grinning impishly.

"Well, actually, there is this one g-"

"Oh, oh - before I forget!" Ma said, bouncing in her seat. The Universities funding came in, took long enough; eighty-five grand for the anthro department. We can finally go to Papua New Guinea!"

Drew smiled, feeling that he somehow missed the Papua New Guinea memo. Was that a thing now? He'd have to reread her lengthy e-mails.

"That's awesome," he said anyway.

"It's only 18 months, but it's a break away from campus and grading papers. You _know_ how miserable I get if I'm stuck doing the same thing for too long!"

He did.

Ma tilted her head up, looking at Drew's room behind him.

"Where's Mr. Koala?" she said, "I don't see him."

Drew looked behind him to the bed. He had made it specially for Ma; Mr. Koala was not sitting, watching the Skype session from his traditional place on top of Drew's pillow.

"Uh, he's in A-, uh," Drew stopped himself, "he's in Gracie's room."

Ma smiled, putting her hand on her heart.

"Aw, I love that you two get along so well."

"It's great," Geoff said, "how is Princess Grace anyway?"

Drew chewed on his tongue, it would have seemed that Dad _hadn't_ told Ma anything yet.

And Drew didn't want to have to explain the whole situation to her over the internet.

And it wasn't like she and Geoff were going to come over to the house unexpectedly one day for coffee.

And it wasn't like Drew was hurting anybody by getting to hold on to just _one_ nice thing from his old life.

"She's great," he said, noting the sudden highness in his voice and making a conscious effort to correct it. "Got tons of friends, getting good grades, hogging the television."

Ma rolled her eyes.

"No change there then," she said, (Drew only _just_ managed to stop himself letting out a bitter laugh) "Any boyfriends?"

"Not if I can help it," Drew said, quickly.

"Spoken like a true older brother," Ma said, laughing, "and you told me you wouldn't want to play with her before you guys met."

"I don't remember saying that!"

"Well you did, you told me that you didn't want to play with a _girl_ and I gave you Mr. Koala so you wouldn't feel lonely – and then you give him away!"

Drew shrugged, trying to look offhand.

"I figured Gracie could use the company more that I did."

Geoff leant closer to the camera, lifting his coffee cup as if to toast Drew.

"You're a good man, Andy, you take good care of the women in your life."

Yeah, Drew was taking _great_ care of the women in his life.

Like his mother.

And his sister.

Drew didn't feel much like talking about his life, old or new anymore; he'd probably end up slipping up and saying something contradictory, or he'd end up getting so wrapped in his little fantasy world where there was a woman in his life didn't who leave him that he'd just end up getting himself depressed.

And he was having such a good run.

"So," he said, forcing a smile. "Tell me more about Papa New Guinea."

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_- Originally the sequel Drew was going to love was Highlander 2, but I changed my mind – Drew's dumb enough as it is!_

_- Speaking of Drew being a bit dim – I'm not sure why he isn't smarter; his dad's a lawyer of some sort, his mommy teaches anthropology at The University of Queensland and his stepmother is feared by every authority figure in Ontario!_

_In the next chapter: Adam introduces Drew to his new friend – but he and Drew have already met…_


	24. Surrogates

_- Sooo, this chapter inspired me to write a Dreli* oneshot, meaning I tried to write two different things at the same time, meaning I totally unable to write anything at all! So I'm getting this out of the way first. Oneshot will come later!_

_- Also, final exams – they are evil!_

_*A finding common ground Dreil fic, not like shippy Dreli fic (although that would be hot!)_

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Chapter 24 - Surrogates

It had been a weird practice.

Riley was finally allowed back on the team after the flagpole incident and the practice had marked the first time Drew had spoken to him since the day of the hazing. They had managed to avoid talking to one another until the end of practice when Riley ran up the benches where Drew was getting his water.

"You played really good today," Riley said, still catching his breath.

Drew, grateful for the few seconds that drinking gave him to respond, eventually settled on "yeah, you too."

Riley stood nodding to himself, saying nothing.

Drew stared at him. "Is that all?"

"Uh, no," Riley said, "I um… how are you getting home?"

Drew had planned on walking; Mom was at work and Dad was on one of his ever-more-frequent business trips to his old office in Vancouver. But after practice, he really couldn't be bothered with the walk.

"Not sure," he said. "I was gonna walk, but-"

"-I have the car," Riley interjected. "I could drop you off?"

"Yeah, sure," Drew said, but he instantly regretted it. He had no idea what Riley he was talking to; was it jackass football Riley who took great pleasure in humiliating Drew infront of the whole school, or the Riley that Zane had insisted was actually a decent person.

Even as he got into Riley's car and fastened his seatbelt, Drew wasn't sure if he wanted to be there or not; what if Riley drove straight past his house and over to the ravine to find quiet place to kick the crap out of him?

"You did a good job as QB," Riley said, not taking his eyes off the road. "When I was away, I mean."

"Thanks," Drew said, glancing over at Riley, trying to work out what is angle was.

"I've been talking to Zane- as a friend I mean; not-"

"Dude, you don't need to B.S., I _know_ remember? And quite frankly, I don't care who you want to-"

"-Anyway," Riley said before Drew could finish. "He says that you're a good guy; that he trusts you. I don't see it myself, but… Zane says he has his reasons."

"Did he tell you what those reasons were?" Drew asked carefully.

Riley grinned, causing Drew's stomach to plummet even further than it had already dropped.

"Nah," he said. "But Zane's a smart guy; if he says he has his reasons, well that's good enough for me."

Drew said nothing, grateful for a silence that he would usually find horribly awkward. It was a few minutes, when they were almost at Drew's house, before Riley spoke up again.

"Here's the thing," Riley said assertively. "I'm team captain, and there's no way in hell I'm going to let an arrogant junior try and undermine that. But we're still team mates, and if we want to win games, we have to at least be civil. Right?"

"Yeah I guess," Drew said quietly. He wasn't particularly fond of Riley, but no one else on the team cared as much about football as Drew than Riley did. He could do civil.

Riley slowed down as he turned onto Drew's street, stopping as Drew pointed out the house.

"Well," Drew said, unbuckling his seatbelt, "thanks."

Riley nodded. "No problem, man."

Drew closed the car door behind him, forcing something resembling a smile at Riley, who returned to gesture with the equal amount of effort before driving away.

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As soon as he got into the house, Drew made a beeline towards the kitchen; he was looking forward to devouring the contents of the pantry. He could hear someone, presumably Adam, raking through the fridge. Drew shouted over to him.

"Dude, you better not have eaten all the hot rod-"

But Drew stopped when he saw who was actually in the kitchen.

Ghoulsworthy.

What was Ghoulsworthy doing in Drew's kitchen, holding one of Drew's sodas? How did he get in? Why did he want to see Drew? He had so many questions.

"What are you doing here?" Drew started to ask when he heard Adam's voice coming towards the kitchen from the basement.

"Hey man, can you get me one too?" Adam said as he walked over to stand beside Ghoulsworthy. He looked across to Drew.

"Oh - hey," Adam said addressing Ghoulsworthy. "Have you met my brother Drew?"

"_Patrick Leigh Fermor_," said Eli addressing a startled Drew.

"_Frieda Belinfante_," Drew replied still trying to work out what was going on. He was at a total loss.

Adam looked equally perplexed, but apparently for different reasons.

"Uh, who's Frieda Belinfa-"

"Don't ask!" Drew stressed. "Can I talk to you," he said in a hushed tone to Adam before signalling to Ghoulsworthy, "_alone_?"

Ghoulsworthy shrugged.

"Alright," he said, high fiving Adam, "see you downstairs bro."

_Bro. _He said bro. Only Drew was allowed to call Adam bro – he was _his_ bro.

"Cool," said Adam, still looking confused, but nodding at Ghoulsworthy anyway.

Once Drew was sure that Ghoulsworthy was out of earshot, he grabbed Adam's arm and pulled him closer.

"What the hell is Ghouls- _Eli_ doing here?"

"He's my friend," Adam said, staring at Drew as if he had gone mad.

"Since when?" Drew asked angrily.

"Since we won those Dead Hand tickets at school."

Drew recalled that Adam had won tickets to The Dead Hand's concert, he had mentioned that Sav was going, as well as "that hot chick from recreation." But Drew didn't remember any mention of Eli. Drew would have remembered if _Ghoulsworthy_ had gotten a mention.

He had mentioned someone called "fish pits" though. "Fish pits" was apparently "epic".

Drew was concerned that Adam had drunk the Kool-Aid.

"Well you're not allowed to be friends with him," said Drew, crossing his arms purposely.

"Who are you, my dad?" Adam said, scoffing, "you can't tell me who I can and can't be friends with."

"Yes I can, I'm the oldest, and I'm telling you that you can't be friends with him. Did you know that he murdered his girlfriend last year? Huh?"

"If he murdered his girlfriend then why isn't he, I don't know, in _prison_?"

Drew didn't have an answer for that. Damn Adam and his common sense.

"Well that's not important – he's _weird,_ that's reason enough to avoid him."

"That's so stupid."

"No, what's stupid is that you're buddies with a dude who wears more eye makeup than you ever did,"

"I never wo-"

"Exactly my point," said Drew, who wasn't entirely sure what his point was at all, but knew that he had now officially lost Adam in this argument.

"Whatever," said Adam, narrowing his eyes, "I'm going down to hang out with Eli. Unless you want to ground me first."

Adam grabbed his soda and ran down to the basement to join Ghoulsworthy. His bro.

Drew started pacing in the kitchen, something he had done so regularly, he was starting to wonder if the floor would somehow start to disintegrate. Adam was friends with Ghoulsworthy? _Ghoulsworthy_? It didn't make sense. Ghoulsworthy was Drew's age - too old to be hanging out with Adam. Adam didn't need to hang out with any older guys; he had _Drew_. What was Ghoulworthy's angle? Why was he trying the muscle his way in with Adam? What was he up to?

And why Adam going along with it? Surely he could see that Eli intentions weren't all good and innocent; he wasn't stupid.

Maybe Adam really couldn't see how insensitive he was being. He could have picked anyone to be friends with, but he just_ happened_ to pick the one person Drew couldn't stand – other than Jenna. And Holly J. But that was different; Eli was a _guy_. And a really creepy one at that.

Drew had to help Adam see the light; he had to show him that he didn't need to have an older guy friend; he had Drew.

What if Drew had a tenner guy friend? Someone Drew could give guidance to; surely Adam would get it after that. Especially if it was an _actual_ physical guy (not that Adam wasn't an actual guy; he was just more of a "guy - with footnotes".) If Adam was trying to replace Drew with someone smarter, it only made sense to replace Adam with someone who could do things Adam couldn't - like grow a beard, or write his name in the snow.

He knew exactly who he needed for this situation.

Drew picked up his phone and searched for the number.

The phone started to ring. A voice answered.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey K.C., it's Drew. What you up to?"

"Uh, I just came back from football practice? You were there?"

Drew scoffed. "Dude, that was 20 minutes ago – you're not doing anything right now are you?"

"Well no-"

"-Awesome. You want to come over and play video games?"

"I guess-"

"-Cool! See you in ten?"

"Uh, sure. See you soon."

"See you soon – _bro_!"

Drew hung up, feeling slightly guilty for using the word bro.

He shook of his guilt and ran down to the basement to see Adam and Ghoulsworthy playing Goldeneye. Ghoulsworthy had apparently decided that he was going to sit in Drew's usual spot on the armchair.

"What now?" Adam said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"I'm inviting someone over," Drew said defiantly. "K.C. – my grade 10 friend!"

Adam shrugged, still glued to the game.

"Cool. Close the door on the way up, you're letting the light in."

Adam may not have _seemed_ bothered, but deep down he felt betrayed by Drew. Probably. He was just really, really good at pretending that he couldn't care less who Drew hung out with. Or something. Now _he_ could see how it felt to be replaced.

"Well I figured we could play video games down here."

Drew finally commanded Adam's full attention, getting him to turn around to face him.

"But Eli and I are playing!"

"Yeah, but it's Goldeneye," Drew asserted. "It's a four-player game."

"I know, but-"

"-Adam, are you Mom?"

"No-"

"-Then you can't decide who gets to play Goldeneye, can you?"

Adam pulled his mouth taut, careful not to lose his cool infront of his new best friend.

"Great," Drew said, grinning, "I'll get the spare controllers."

"_Great_," Adam echoed moodily before shooting some virtual henchmen.

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oOo

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Drew waited by the door, opening it as soon as he heard to doorbell ring and startling K.C. slightly.

"Hey bro!" he said. "Come in, welcome to Casa Torres."

K.C. walked into the house, hands in his pockets and looking a just a little bit awkward.

"You ready to play some Goldeneye?" Drew asked enthusiastically.

K.C. looked at Drew apprehensively. "Goldeneye? As in Nintendo 64's Goldeneye?"

"Once a classic always a classic right? Come on, we're in the basement."

K.C. followed, but still sounded uncertain. "We?"

Drew walked down the stairs to find Adam celebrating a victory against Ghoulsworthy.

Drew cleared his throat. "Guys this is K.C., K.C. this is my brother Adam. And that's Eli."

K.C. pointed to Adam and grinned, "British California!"

"Sunshine Band!" Adam said back. "Pull up a chair, dude, we're playing Goldeneye."

Drew deflated slightly; he had forgotten that K.C. and Adam knew, and seemed to like, each other. It was going to take more than just K.C.'s presence to help Drew get his point across.

"Yeah, help yourself to a seat, bro."

K.C. crashed down onto the beanbag and picked up a controller.

"K.C. is on the football team with me," Drew said loudly. "It's really cool to have a bro who's into sports. Adam doesn't even take gym class!"

Adam threw a quick glance at Drew, but went back to setting up a four-player game without saying anything.

"But you get to play Wii in remedial gym don't you?" Eli asked.

"Yeah, sometimes," said Adam, trying to sound offhand.

"Seems like the wise choice, really," Eli said, nodding.

The start screen appeared on the television and the four boys prepared to run around the virtual facility, hunting one another down.

"You ever played Goldeneye K.C. – bro?" Drew asked.

"No, I think I was, like, 3 when this game came out."

"That's ok bro," Drew assured him. "I help you out, bro."

"Wow, you really like the word "bro" don't you?" said K.C., laughing uncertainly.

"It's a recent development," Adam said. "A very recent development."

The boys all went quiet as the round began, trying to collect as much ammo as possible. Once everyone had settled into the game, Drew spoke up again.

"So, K.C., how tall are you?" he asked.

"I dunno," K.C. shrugged, "like 6'2"?"

"Wow, 6'2", that's tall," Drew said, trying to sound as impressed as possible. "Isn't that tall Adam?"

Adam said nothing, Ghoulsworthy looked around, apparently figuring out what Drew was up to and spoke up.

"Hey, I'm, like, barely 5'6"," he said to K.C., grinning. "Remind me never to play basketball against you!"

"Yeah, remind me never to play Goldeneye against Adam again," K.C. said, laughing. "You're killing me, dude - literally!"

"Oh yeah," Drew said, shooting at Eli's avatar but missing. "You get really good at video games when you never leave the house."

"Drew, didn't you say you had an essay to write?" Adam hissed.

Eli looked over to Drew, pretending to be interested, "oh hey, what for?"

"European History," Drew responded, not bothering to look over at Eli.

K.C. pulled a face, "with Perino? Yikes; I do not envy you."

Drew rolled his eyes. "I know, I used to think I _liked_ history; then I had_ him _as a teacher."

"Yeah, Perino's a hard-ass," K.C. sighed. "Last year he chewed me out for going _over_ the word count on my French revolution paper. I got punished for doing more work than I was asked to. I though he was going to send _me_ to the guillotine!"

Adam and Eli both laughed, so Drew did too.

"You know," Eli said, "I took that class last year, managed to scrape an "A". If you need any help, just let me know."

Drew smiled back sardonically, _of course _Ghouslworthy would want to show off how _amazing_ he was at European History; how he had aced it a whole year earlier than most people. Eli seemed pretty pleased with himself and his attempts at making Drew look bad infront of Adam. Drew and Adam never argued with each other when they played video games on their own (other than the usual fights about stealing items or pushing each other into pits, but surely everybody did that.) But now that Eli was here, it had become the most hostile gaming session ever.

He had to find a way to let Adam see that Ghoulsworthy was bad news.

"That would be _awesome,_" Drew said dryly. "But where would we study? If I remember correctly, your room is, what was it again? Oh yeah:_ off limits_?"

Eli seemed to chew on his tongue; beside him, Adam glared intently at Drew. It was a warning: _back off_.

"I dunno," Drew sighed. "It just seems like a strange choice of words. Off limits; it makes it sound like there's something sinister going on."

"Not really," Eli eventually said, calmly. "Unless you think skull pillows and old vinyls are sinister."

"Oh yeah, the skull thing," Drew said. "I heard about that. That's an interesting thing to collect – is there a story behind it?"

Eli shrugged nonchalantly. "Watched too many pirate movies as a kid, I guess."

"Watching movies about murdering sea thieves. Interesting."

K.C., who Drew had forgotten was there, piped up from the beanbag chair.

"Can one of you guys show me where the bathroom is-"

"In a minute," Drew said before moving his attention back to Ghoulsworthy. "So, Eli, you got a girlfriend?"

Eli looked over at Drew, choosing his words carefully. "Not at the moment."

"Not at the moment?" Drew repeated. "So you _did _have a girlfriend?"

"Oh Drew, look - I'm about to _shoot you in the face_," warned Adam. "You'd better concentrate on the game and, you know, _stop talking_."

"What happened?" Drew continued. "Did she dare to go into the "off limits" bedroo-"

"Drew, for the love of god; shut up!"

Adam had moved into full-blown death-stare mode. Everyone went deadly quiet, even the game seemed to react to what was going on and seemed to somehow mute itself.

After what must have been at least a minute of silence, Eli put down his controller.

"You know," he said, getting up. "I should really get going; I didn't realise how late it was."

"Wait, do you have a car?" K.C. asked also standing up. "Can I hitch a ride? Please?"

"Yeah, I'll drop you off," Eli said before turning and smiling to Adam. "See you at school?"

Adam, who had been staring down Drew irately, turned to Eli and nodded.

"Yeah, sure dude."

"Cool," Eli said slowly. He turned to K.C. who has joined him by the stairs. "You ready to go?"

"_Hell_ yes." K.C. said bluntly as they both made their way up the stairs and let themselves out of the house.

Once Drew heard the front door close, he stood up and started to move to his now free armchair; the one that Ghoulsworthy had claimed for himself.

"Well, now that they're gone, we can hang out just the two-"

Adam grabbed Drew's arm before he could sit down, his expression indignant.

"Do you have mental problems?" he asked fiercely. "Seriously, what is your deal?"

"Hey, I'm just working my screening process," Drew said defensively. "Eli's up to something, I know it. Why else-"

Adam stood up before Drew could finish.

"Why else would he want to be friends with me, right?"

Drew bit his tongue, that _was _what he was going to say, but when Adam said it, it just sounded _bad_.

"Yeah, I get it," Adam continued. "Eli_ has _to be up to something, because, god forbid that he would actually want to be friends with a freak like me!"

"Please don't say that Adam," Drew said quietly. He hated the "f" word; he especially hated Adam using it.

"Why not, it's true isn't it? It's what you're thinking."

"No, I swear, it's really not-"

"-You know what, forget it. I'm just going to go to my room and read. Alone. Because I'm pretty sure you just blew my chances of ever making friends here."

Adam traced Eli and K.C.'s footsteps up the stairs, leaving Drew standing hopelessly alone in the basement.

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_- Drew, Riley, Adam, Eli and K.C. in one chapter = manliest day ever! Yeah!_

_- I noticed that the term "bit his tongue" or something to that effect is mentioned a few times in this chapter. This totally has nothing to do with the promo. Nothing whatsoever. Nope. (?)_

_In the next chapter: Drew learns how to use a label maker, but NOTHING about the Victorian Era. _


	25. Labels

_So this chapter coincides with the first time we see the Torres brothers on screen together! I was a little giddy watching it again to see the beginning of their amazing brolationship!_

_I apologise for how long this chapter is; believe it or not, this is the cut-down version!_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "You Don't Know my Name (2)_"

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**Chapter 25 - Labels**

"You know where I think it went wrong?"

"Not writing your essay? Getting Alli to write it for you? Trying to pull a fast one on Perino?"

"No, I mean-"

"-Choosing to study History _and_ European History? I think it's supposed to be an _either/or_, not an _and_."

"No, this isn't my fault."

"Of course it isn't."

"I didn't _ask_ Alli to write my essay for me," Drew said, reclining on his chair and staring hopelessly at the blank computer screen infront of him. "She did it because she thinks I'm too stupid to write it myself."

"To be fair," Adam said hesitantly, "you didn't write your essay _at all_."

"What do you think I'm doing right now?" Drew snapped back. "Jeez, dude, you're supposed to be helping me."

"I _am_ helping," Adam insisted. "I cancelled a Bill Murray marathon with Eli for this."

"Then stop being a smart ass and help me," Drew grumbled, putting his hands over the keyboard purposely, but not actually typing anything yet. "How do I even start writing this thing away?"

"Well where are your books?" Adam asked.

"Books?"

"Yeah, books. You know, they're these stacks of paper bound together to create a stream of written information?"

Drew didn't laugh; he was getting pretty sick of people implying that he was stupid. Adam seemed to notice Drew's somberness and eased up.

"It's just a joke dude," Adam said gently.

"Well, it's not funny." Drew span around on his chair to face his brother. "You have _no idea_ Adam. People have always stuck this label on me for something I can't help. You don't have a clue what it feels like to always be judged like that."

Adam nodded thoughtfully.

"Wow, you're right. That must really suck."

To Drew's relief Adam smiled. He had forgiven Drew for the Goldeneye incident pretty quickly. Especially since he and Ghoulsworthy will still the best of buddies. Drew sort of wished Adam had held the grudge a little longer; Adam forgave people far too easily.

"Anyway, I don't have any books," Drew admitted.

"Well we're not going to get much work done without them," Adam said. "Let's say we call it quits tonight and work on it before school tomorrow."

Drew grinned. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan."

Adam stood up.

"Cool. I'll call Eli then, tell him I'm free tonight after all. What DVD should I take over, Caddyshack? Groundhog Day?"

"-Tootsie?"

Adam threw a pillow at Drew's head. Drew had made the choice not to rip on Ghoulsworthy until he was absolutely sure that Adam had cooled off. Besides, he was pretty sure Adam was going to get sick of Ghoulsworthy's faux mysterious-worldly act pretty soon and start hanging out with cooler people. Like Drew.

"Fine, I'll just ask Eliwhat I should take over," Adam said, sticking his tongue out at Drew. He got up and walked to his own room, phone pressed against his ear.

Drew stared at the computer screen infront of him. He was starting to wonder if he should've just claimed that he had written the essay after all. Granted, he didn't know what half the words in it meant, but he owned a thesaurus, he could have winged it.

But then that would be sending a clear signal to Alli that she was right; he _was_ too stupid to do the work on his own.

And if Drew hated anything more that studying, it was proving other people right.

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Drew made a mental note to always bring Adam with him to libraries. Usually when Drew had to find a book, he would scan every shelf row-by-row until he found what he was looking for and it ordinarily it took forever. But Adam somehow figured out exactly where all the books they needed were.

"Man you're good at this," said Drew staring in disbelief as Adam pulled out book after book on the Victorian era. "It's like you worked out the secrets to the book stacking system or something."

"There _is _a system," Adam said, thrusting the books into Drew's arms. "The Dewey Decimal system?"

Ah, decimals - _math_. No wonder Drew didn't get it.

"That should get us started," Adam said, looking triumphantly at the stack of books Drew was now holding.

"_Started_? This is more books than I've read in my life!"

"Well then you're about to break double digits," Adam cheered, patting Drew on the back as they checked the books out.

Drew dumped them onto a table in the cafeteria, staring at their covers blankly, unsure of where to begin.

Adam sat down, handed him some notebook paper and a freshly sharpened pencil.

"Ok," Drew said, looking at the blank sheet of paper infront of him. "If you were to write an essay on the Victorian Era, where would you start?"

"Uh, well when _was_ it?" Adam offered helpfully.

Drew had nothing. He knew that the Victorian Era was during Victorian _times_, but that was it. No one ever actually mentioned when it was when they talked about it, they just called it Victorian times, which was very inconsiderate towards the high school history students of the world.

"The _Victorian_ era?" Adam said slowly.

Drew shook his head. "I have no idea."

Adam sighed, apparently realizing what a lost cause this was going to be. "Maybe you should have said the essay Alli wrote for you _was_ your own."

"I'm _trying_ to forget about that?" Drew groaned. If even Adam was giving up on him, then maybe he really was a hopeless case after all.

"So I'm guessing you two are over?"

"I don't appreciate being called stupid," Drew said flatly. He had spent his whole life being called stupid, but it didn't get easier to deal with. And now Alli had joined his list of detractors, which made him burn more than it reasonably should have. Sure Adam called him stupid at least once a day, but Adam had known Drew since they were kids; he had witnessed Drew trying to stick a fork in a wall socket on more than one occasion. Alli had known Drew all of two minutes before deciding that he was too incompetent to do his own schoolwork.

The bell rang. Drew had to get to homeroom. He had accomplished nothing. He picked up his things and walked down the cafeteria with Adam

"I'm a new guy at a new school," Drew said to Adam, even though Adam already knew the drill. "I don't see why I should be tied down. I suck at schoolwork, but I rule at girls."

Drew checked out a cute blonde girl and gave her a quick "hey" before turning back to Adam, who was dangerously close to eye rolling. "Ladies and gentlemen, step right up it's ego time; watch Andrew Torres down twelve raw eggs!"

"Ha-ha, make fun," Drew retorted. "But you don't know what it's like to have the hotness thrown at you left, right and center."

This time Drew could actually _feel_ the eye roll.

"So with all your _options_," Adam said sardonically, "who you gonna pick?"

Drew shrugged. "I don't know, someone simple."

At the very moment he ran into Alli, who was probably the last person he wanted to run into (Well other than Ghoulsworthy or Jenna, but they _definitely_ weren't in his dating options.)

Alli brushed past him coldly; apparently he was the last person she wanted to bump into too. Both he and Adam stood and watched her storm down the hall, turning back to glare at Drew. He continued to stare down the hallway long after she had disappeared around the corner.

"Ok," Drew said assertively. "Onto bigger and better things."

"Like your essay?" Adam asked.

"No," Drew scoffed. "I mean important stuff, like chicks!"

.

oOo

.

Drew had ran into an obstacle pretty quickly in his search for a new hook up; he had no idea which girls to approach and which to avoid. He needed someone who was more familiar with curvier portion of the student body.

He had briefly considered asking Owen for help, but was worried that Owen's jerkiness might work as some sort of girl repellent. Then he thought about Sav, but remembered that he had just broken up with Sav's little sister and that maybe Drew wasn't his favorite person at the moment. He vetoed Riley and Zane pretty quickly simply because they weren't into girls.

That left one person.

Drew found K.C. on his own, fishing something out of his locker. He didn't notice Drew until he started to speak.

"Hey bro, or uh-" Drew started, realizing that he had managed to sufficiently weird K.C. out the last time he'd used the word "bro". "Hey dude. What you up to?"

K.C. looked at him uncertainly "You know, just… locker stuff. Nice talking to you."

He shut his locker and began to shuffle away, but Drew followed.

"Hey- hey," Drew said, catching up to K.C. "I know that the Goldeneye thing was a little-"

"-Insane? Psychotic even?"

"Well, yeah." Drew said sheepishly. "But there's a really good reason for that. That Goldsworthy guy called my brother _bro_!"

"You called _me_ bro," K.C. said, still looking uncertainly at Drew. "At least fifteen times."

"Whatever, I don't want Eli leaving an impression on my kid brother; he's weird."

"_He's_ weird?"

K.C. was smirking. Drew relaxed; he _knew_ K.C. was cool.

"Anyway," Drew said, replaying the smirk. "I need your help finding a new girl."

"I thought you and Alli-"

"-No, we had a fight."

"Wait," K.C. said, holding up a hand. "You broke up, or you had a fight?"

"Is there a difference?" Drew asked.

K.C. groaned and shook his head, obviously Drew was missing something; if relationships were going to be a lot of work, then clearly they were too much effort to try and maintain. What was the point of dragging it out?

"What kind of girl do you have in mind?" K.C. sighed.

"Ok, here's what I'm looking for: cute, fun, attracted to shiny objects. Where should I look?"

"The pet store?"

Drew rolled his eyes. "No seriously man, help me navigate."

"Hmm, an artsy girl could be cool?" K.C. suggested, pointing out two quirky looking girls walking past them in the hall. "Might involve nude portraiture?"

"And underarm hair," Drew added before scoping some _Degrassi Drama_ girls walking past. "What about theatre chicks?"

"Sure, if you want drama 24/7." K.C. interjected, which seemed a bit rich coming from him; he dated _Jenna_. And she was evil.

"Ooh," K.C. said, stopping Drew as a group of girls from the Power Squad walked past. "Can't go wrong with a cheerleader."

Drew took a good long ogle. K.C. was _definitely_ smarter than he looked.

"Cute, peppy, and they can do_ no wrong_ in those skirts." Drew grinned.

" I hear Marisol's single." K.C. piped in.

"Oh yeah?" Drew asked, eagerly. "Hm…"

Drew walked up to Marisol who was happily chatting away with her Power Squad buddies. They were all pretty cute. If, for some unfathomable reason, Marisol said no to Drew, he figured he could always try his luck with one of her friends.

"Hey Marisol," he said, making her turn around. She smiled, that was a good sign. "As a Power Squader and a hottie, I'm concerned about your current status as single."

"Well the right guy hasn't come along I guess." said Marisol, playing along. Drew liked it when they played along.

"Oh, what's taking him so long?"

"I don't know, I couldn't be any more available right now," She replied, batting her eyelashes. Drew liked it when they did that too.

"Well _somebody _has to ask you out," he said, making Marisol giggle (another one of Drew's favorite things) "It would be a sin not to. "

"Yeah, but who?" Marisol asked. "I heard you're with Alli."

Drew felt himself falter a little bit. Did everyone in school know about him and Alli?

"I don't see her around, do you?"

"No," Marisol purred.

"Well then, what do you say?"

Marisol pretended to ponder for a moment.

"I say… The Dot after school?"

"Sounds like a date. Meet you back here after class?"

"Uh-huh."

Drew nodded and walked back to K.C., he could hear the excited chatter of Marisol and her cheerleader friends as they walked away. K.C. gave him the slow clap.

"Bravo, bravo," he said proudly. "I couldn't have done it better myself."

"Done what?"

_Jenna_, had snuck out of her cave and managed to find K.C., she wrapped her arm around him.

"Drew's bagged himself a Power Squad hottie."

"Really?" she said, widening her eyes. _Oh, man, Jenna sucked._ "Which one? Chantay? Anya?"

"Marisol," K.C. said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Oh," Jenna said, pulling a face. "_Marisol_. Going on a date with _Drew_."

Drew started to feel nervous. Why did Jenna have to be so awful all the time? Why was she even there? Drew was having a perfectly good time with K.C. before _she_ showed up.

"Well…" Jenna said, pulling a smile that looked more like a grimace. "She definitely likes you! _She doesn't stop talking about you._"

Drew didn't respond. Surely Jenna was just trying cause trouble; that's what evil people do. Surely Marisol was going to be an awesome date.

Right?

.

oOo

.

Drew ran to Miss Dawes' English class before he was supposed to meet Marisol in the main hall. He had to let Adam know he wasn't going straight home so that he could in turn tell Mom, otherwise there'd be a missing person's report made in Drew's name by dinnertime.

He found Adam walking out of the classroom, talking animatedly to a curly-haired girl.

"-and then he gets put in this prison where everyone has to wear these magnet shoes that keep your feet stuck to the floor. And nobody believes that he's an FBI agent, because he has Nic Cage's face!"

"So how does he escape?" the girl asked, excitedly.

"Well you'll just have to watch the movie and see for yourself; it's so cool!" Adam said, before noticing that Drew was standing there. "Hey bro."

"Hey yourself," Drew said, smiling. Adam was talking to a _girl. _It was a good day for both of them chick-wise. It also meant that if Adam was talking to a girl, then he wasn't talking to Ghoulsworthy, which was always a good thing. "Can you tell Mom I'm making my own way home? I have a date. With a cheerleader."

"Can't" Adam shrugged, "I'm staying behind too; Clare and I were going to work through our chem project together."

Drew looked over to Clare, she was a sweet looking girl, and she clearly had a good rapport with Adam. He moved back over to Adam, trying to work their brother telepathy.

Drew raised his eyebrows: She's cute, you should go for it.

Adam pulled his mouth to one side: _nah dude, we're just friends._

"Fine, I'll just text Mom," Drew said out loud. "Are you ok for getting home?"

"My mom can drop Adam off," Clare offered brightly, "I usually stay later on Wednesdays for friendship club anyway."

_Friendship club. _That's what they called the school's Christian group; they were all about prayer circles and abstinence; two things that Drew was morally against.

Drew wrinkled his nose: _Bro – Jesus freak warning! Watch out there._

Adam furrowed his brow:_ Chill out, she's nice._

"If you say so," Drew muttered.

"Sorry?"

Clare was staring confusedly at Drew. He cleared his throat.

"You know," he said clumsily. "If it's not too much trouble for your mom. To drop Adam off I mean. If you say so."

Clare smiled sweetly. "Oh. Ok then. Come on Adam."

"Sure," Adam said, following Clare to the library and throwing a quick glance to Drew. Drew didn't need to tap into his brolepathy to know what it meant.

You're an idiot!

And of course Adam would be right, because everyone thought Drew was an idiot.

But at least he was an idiot going on a date with a hot cheerleader.

.

oOo

.

Marisol Lewis was quite possibly the most boring girl on the planet, or at the very least the most boring girl in the province.

The entire walk to The Dot had consisted of relaying the Power Squad's ranking of all the boys on the football team. It started off fine (Drew was number one, obviously) but then she had to go into detail about why _every other guy on the team_ was cute, and Drew didn't really want to hear about K.C.'s "puppy dog eyes" or Zane's "totally edible biceps" or Owen's "bad boy mystique."

She was only just winding down once they had actually reached The Dot.

"Like I said," she concluded. "All the girls think you're the hottest guy on the team. Then K.C., then Riley, then Zane, then Owen."

The whole thing had left Drew exhausted and he was quite glad to finally get a seat. They were by the window; as he glanced out he saw Alli with Jenna, just getting up to leave from their outside table. Even through the pane of glass, Drew could feel the chill from the cold look Alli was throwing at him.

Then he remembered that he was on a date with Marisol; a date that held the sole purpose of helping him get over Alli. He smiled at Marisol.

"Glad to hear I'm on top," he said.

"Hi, want to order something?"

Drew looked up to see the waiter, Peter, standing at the table, notepad in hand. Drew gestured to Marisol.

"Um, ladies first," he said, being as gentlemanly as he could.

"What are you getting?" she asked grinning.

Drew was put out for a second; he was always taught to let the lady go first, but Marisol wasn't budging.

"A large ice tea for me," he said to Peter.

"Me too," Marisol chirped, leaning closer into the table, "I _love_ ice tea!"

"Me too," Drew echoed back, he did enjoy his ice tea; it made him feel all Britishy and sophisticated. "Have you heard of the band Hot Chip?"

Marisol sat up excitedly, "Oh my god, they are, like, _the_ best!"

Drew sat up too, maybe he'd judged Marisol too soon; they seemed to have a lot in common, and now they had something to talk about other than how cute boys who weren't Drew were. He could quite easily spend an hour or two talking about Hot Chip; he'd never met a girl who liked them before (unless you counted Gracie, but he didn't, because Gracie cheated by having a guy's brain, also she didn't exist anymore so he needed a new girl to talk about these things with) it would have been pretty cool if Marisol's favorite song was _Ready on the Floor _too (Adam would poke fun at him for picking _everyone's_ favorite Hot Chip song, but Drew reasoned that popular things surely got popular for a reason.)

"Yeah?" he said brightly, getting ready for what maybe wasn't going to be such a bad date after all. "What's your favorite song by them?"

Marisol sat with her mouth slightly open for a few moments; she obviously didn't know _any_ of their songs. Then why did she say she did?

Peter, apparently picking up on the unease that was starting to creep in, cleared his throat loudly.

"So, two ice teas, anything else?"

Drew nodded over to a sheepish looking Marisol, trying to show her that it wasn't a problem.

"Go ahead."

"What are _you_ getting?" she asked. Drew got the feeling that she was going to be asking that question a lot. He stared at her, keeping his expression as stony as possible.

"I'm gonna get, ah, a tuna wrap with a scoop of strawberry ice cream on top and… garlic salt."

Marisol's face fell further and further with each ingredient. Without doubt she would order something normal after that, or all of Drew's worst fears about cheerleaders would be realized; they really can't think for themselves.

Peter just stood, staring at him.

"Really?"

"Yes," said Drew, deadly serious. "That's what I want."

"Ok, you're the boss," said Peter, sighing as he took down Drew's order. "And for the lady?"

Marisol beamed, sitting about again. She wouldn't, would she?

"I'll get the same!"

She would

Peter started to back away from the table.

"Okay._ Weirdos…"_

"You _sure_ you don't want something else?" Drew asked Marisol, who still had a huge smile plastered on her face.

"It's easier if I don't have to think for myself," she giggled.

Drew started to wonder if it was too late to bail. He could see Alli hugging Jenna across the street outside before parting ways. Alli disappeared into the convenience store across from The Dot.

"You eat like my friend Katie," Marisol piped up. "She eats the _weirdest_ things. I was staying at her house once and a found her in the bathroom eating fried rice covered with strawberry syrup; in the _bathroom_."

She laughed at her story, but Drew wasn't really paying attention; he wondered if he could excuse himself to pick up something from the store, like some gum, or breath mints, or a girl with a brain.

"Uh, Drew?" Marisol said loudly, causing Drew to jump out of his stupor.

"Oh, yeah, I was listening," he said stupidly. "Your friend Katie eats in the bathtub."

"Bath_room," _Marisol corrected, showing the first sign of intelligent life on the date so far. "And speaking of, will you excuse me."

Marisol got up and walked over to the bathroom. Drew made sure she was completely out of sight before getting up from the table too and heading to the door, passing Peter on the way out.

"But I'm making your ice teas and gross stuff!" he yelled after Drew as he ran across the street.

"I just need five minutes!" He shouted back, jogging up to the pavement just as Alli was walking out of the store. She didn't stop walking when she saw him.

"Hey," Drew said, following Alli. "Can I ask you something?"

She didn't bother to turn around. "Make is quick"

"Ok, you win," he sighed. "I'll go to the dance with you. All better?"

Alli stopped and turned around, but when Drew saw how annoyed she looked, he almost wished that she hadn't.

"That's it? That's all you have?"

"I thought you'd be happy," Drew said, trying not to sound as confused as he felt. "You made a mistake, I made a mistake can we please move on already?"

"You were my mistake, Drew."

"What are you talking about?"

"We have one fight and you run off to Marisol?" she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Marisol's boring!" he explained, wondering if relaying how awful their date was going would work in his favor. "She made me realize that I want to hang out with you."

"So you like me because I'm less boring than someone else," Alli said, which was true, but when she said it, it sounded like some sort of insult, which was weird because obviously it's a good thing to be less boring than someone else. "Wow, that's romantic. Surprised I haven't seen that one on a greeting card."

"I could, ah, make one for you?" he said, trying to be charming, because apparently being honest wasn't working,

"Ugh!"

"So, uh, the dance," he said, grinning charismatically. "Does "ugh" mean yes in Hindi?"

Alli's mouth tightened, she must have been really annoyed if The Grin wasn't working on her. "It means "go away" in caveman. I'm surprised you didn't know that."

Alli walked away for good that time, leaving Drew alone in the middle of the street. He turned around to go back to The Dot, at least he had an ice tea waiting for him, and if he was still feeling down after that, he supposed he could make Marisol tell him how handsome he was again.

But as he looked through the window of The Dot, he had the distinct feeling that Marisol wasn't going to be saying any nice things about him soon.

She was standing by their table, watching Drew through the glass, doing the head tilt that never failed to make him instantly feel nervous. How long had she been there? Peter stood beside her, holding two plates of what looked like the contents of the garbage disposal and shrugging apologetically at Drew. Drew stood, watching as Peter tried to give Marisol her tuna-wrap sundae whilst she pushed it back to him in disgust.

"Hey, you're the one that ordered it!" Peter yelled at her as Drew walked back through the entrance.

Marisol stopped pushing the plate towards Peter and turned her fury to Drew.

"What now?" she said, "you got a third girl you need to chase after?"

"No," Drew said gloomily. "I'm all yours now."

"Well guess what?" Marisol said, picking up her purse. "Not me too!"

She stormed out without giving Drew a second glance. Peter looked at him, still holding Drew's order.

"Man, that didn't even make sense," Peter said shrugging. "Anyway, here's your… thing."

"It's fine," Drew said, leaning against the wall beside them. "I think I'll just have the bill, thanks."

Peter's face fell.

"Aw dude, I really wanted to watch you eat this!"

.

oOo

.

"I'll pick you both up after school," Mom called out of the window. "You _are_ both coming home after school today, right?"

"Yes Mom," Drew and Adam both droned.

"Good. Have a great day kids," she said before driving away.

Drew made a seat for himself on the steps whilst Adam decided to lounge on the concrete railing, opening up a comic book and already engrossed before Drew could strike up a conversation.

"Hey dude," he shouted over to him, forcing Adam to stop reading. "Pass me my boots?"

Adam let out an unnecessarily large sigh before sitting up and throwing Drew's boots over.

"You know," Adam said. "They have these designated rooms inside the school for people to get changed in. You don't have to come to practice already in uniform."

"You're funny," Drew deadpanned. "Power Squad practice? In the gym? I'm trying to avoid Marisol for as long as possible."

"It was that bad, huh?"

Drew went back to concentrating on untying the knots in his laces, hoping that the focus would push out the memory of his disastrous date with Marisol.

"I bumped into Alli," Drew explained. "Well, I ran after Alli. But she wouldn't even give me a chance."

He pulled at his laces in frustration; what was he doing during practice to get them so knotted up?

"You're gonna give yourself blisters," Adam sighed, stretching his arms out to take the boots back.

"Stupid knot," Drew grumbled, before tossing the problem over to Adam. Years of playing video games had given him the dexterity of a ninja chef (Drew wasn't sure if a ninja chef was a real thing or not, but he sincerely hoped that it was.)

"Easy caveman!" Adam said, taking over the laces.

Drew felt himself getting annoyed again; was it "Call Drew a Caveman Week?" Had there been some sort of memo? It was getting pretty wearing as far as Drew was concerned.

"Seriously?" he moaned. "I can't win. It's like with other girls I don't care if it's easy, but with Alli it's like I get nervous."

Adam sat up, staring at Drew as if he had missed something obvious.

"That's 'cause you actually like her."

"Yeah I tried telling her that, but nothing I say works," Drew muttered.

Adam pushed himself forward. "Haven't you ever seen an eighties movie?"

"No, not on purpose," Drew joked.

"The girl who's worth it requires an effort, like a gesture or something," Adam explained, throwing the untied boots back at Drew. "Not the same old Drew tricks!"

Drew stared bemusedly at his unknotted boots before putting them on. Adam went back to reading.

"So what should I do?" Drew asked. "I left my boombox and Peter Gabriel CD at home."

"I don't know, figure it out yourself," Adam said, not looking away from what he was reading. "But maybe get it approved by someone before you go to Alli; you have a tendency to get… overly sappy when you're trying to be meaningful."

"No I don't," Drew said defensively.

"Oh really?" Adam said, putting down the comic again. "When you were leaving for Montgomery for three whole weeks you gave me your beloved childhood teddy bear as a parting gift!"

"Okay, how many times do we have to go over this; koalas aren't bears, they're marsupials," Drew lectured. "And secondly, that wasn't sappy, that was sweet."

"It was sappy-"

"-Hey, you took Mr. Koala-"

"-Only because I felt sorry for you-"

"-Well I feel sorry for you Captain Heartless!" Drew said, nudging Adam with his foot. "I'm going to come up with an awesome gesture. Something that will make Alli go all gooey inside."

"Your brain's all gooey inside."

"You just wait," Drew said determinedly. "I'll come up with something."

.

oOo

.

His killer smile makes ladies scream.

He's the best QB in the entire (team/league)

_Every girl in school wants to be his match._

And that's why he is the perfect catch.

Drew was sitting in study hall, reading over what he had just written. He crossed out team for league (team rhymed better, but league was more impressive) and read it again. It was cute he thought, at least cute enough to endear Alli back to him. He wasn't even entirely sure why he cared so much; he could hook up with any girl in school, but with Alli it was like he was frightened of the possibility that things between them could end. His relationships with girls ending had never scared him before, indeed, they were one of the things he liked about most of his relationships – the promise that they could end whenever things started to go sour. He'd always been quite happy to quit before things ever got too serious. He thought back to his relationship with Nicole; it was only supposed to be a hookup, but she somehow ended up being able to dump him – that was never supposed to be in the cards.

He didn't want Alli to dump him, or go on dates with other people, or want Drew to go on dates with other people.

He'd never felt like that before.

His plan had to work.

Drew pulled out his phone and called Adam, his guru for the more complicated aspects of women.

"_Yo."_

"Adam it's Drew. I've been thinking about that thing you said?"

"That you really need to finish your Victorian essay?"

"No, the _important_ thing," Drew emphasized. "About impressing Alli!"

Drew played out his plan to Adam, setting up all the players and explaining their jobs, line-by-line.

"…And then I'll get the ball from Owen and say "Catch", you know because I caught the ball and I'm the perfect catch?"

Something really funny must have happened wherever Adam was, as he burst into hysterical laughter on the other side of the phone.

"That…" Adam gasped breathlessly. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever head in my life!"

"I know you think you know everything about girls because of your_ long-term covert experience," _Drew said, hushing his voice for the last part. "But I know what the ladies like, and Alli's going to eat this up."

"Sure," said Adam, still trying to get his breath back. "Whatever you say bro."

Drew waited quietly for Adam to calm down. He was taking an excessively long time to stop laughing.

"So I take it that you're not keen on the idea?" Drew asked.

"Ah, no," Adam said, still just a little mirthful. "I don't think telling Alli how great you think you are is really going to impress her."

"Well I think you're wrong."

"Well then I wish you good luck, because if that's your plan, then you're going to need it."

Drew hung up and put his phone back into his pocket indignantly.

His idea wasn't stupid. It was going to work.

It had to.

.

oOo

.

"Told you it was a stupid idea."

Owen shrugged leeringly at Drew, who threw the football back to Owen just a little too forcefully, then pushed his way through K.C. and Joey to get to his locker.

How could that not have worked? He had recruited people; he had written a poem; the poem _rhymed_.

But Alli still walked away, completely unimpressed.

As he opened his locker, Drew had to concede that maybe Adam was right; maybe sometimes girls don't want to hear about how great you are. Which was funny because he had just been on a date with someone who seemed pretty intent on having long discussions about how great Drew was.

And that person what right behind him.

"Hey you."

Drew turned around to find Marisol standing there. To his surprise she was smiling at him (probably laughing at Drew's humiliation.)

"Hey Drew," she said, swaying on the spot. "I had a great time on our date yesterday."

"You did?" Drew asked in bafflement. "Really?"

"Well," Marisol said rolling her eyes. "Perhaps it wasn't perfect, but maybe that's because we need to do something a little more _fun_ next time."

She bit her bottom lip suggestively, against his better judgment, Drew could feel himself starting to push Alli to the back of his mind again.

"You have a date for the hoedown tonight?" She asked coyly.

"I don't," Drew confessed. "I wasn't really sure if I was going or not."

"Well you _should_," Marisol urged. "People are always more relaxed at these things," she whispered, taking a step closer to Drew. "Easy going." Another step closer. "Loose."

As she got closer, Drew suddenly became aware that Marisol was onto to something quite brilliant.

"You're right!" Drew said, the realization dawning on him. "Thanks Marisol."

He walked away assuredly, knowing now what he had to do.

.

oOo

.

"Come in!"

Drew let himself into Adam's room to find him doing homework, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be writing his history essay; the one that was nearly a week overdue already. But he didn't care, he had bigger things to worry about.

"What you studying?" Drew asked, kneeling on the floor and resting his chin on Adam's mattress.

"Malaria," Adam said without looking up. "Remind me to never go to Uganda."

"Okay, don't go to Uganda."

Drew pushed his face further forward onto the bed, forcing Adam to put his book down and look at him.

"What?"

"I need a date for the hoedown."

"So call out the window," Adam said, putting his class notes on the bedside table. "I'm sure your groupies will flock."

Drew stayed kneeling, smiling at Adam, but not saying anything.

Adam glared back.

"Well?"

"Will you be my date to the hoedown?"

Adam shot up, jumping off the bed and walking to the direction of the door_._

"Ok, this is getting too weird for my liking-"

"Oh, come on!"

"Nope."

"Please?" Drew said, getting up and following his brother. "We never get to hang out together anymore."

"We hang out all the time," Adam said, leaning against the door frame. "See? We're hanging out right now!"

"I can't go on my own, I need a wingman. I was_ your _date to the niner's mixer-"

"-No, if I remember correctly you said you my _bodyguard_ for the niner's mixer. And that was a long time ago. Things are different now."

Drew wasn't expecting it - the feeling like he had been punched in the gut. He was mad at himself for being caught off-guard. Joking about watching Tootsie, and saying that Adam had long term covert experience with girls was one thing; being reminded of what was missing in his life now was entirely another.

Adam didn't seem to notice Drew's reaction. Instead, he was standing huffily with his hands in his pockets.

"I have a lot of homework to do," he mumbled.

"So do I," Drew insisted, trying to shake off the unexpected hit. "You can invite your friend Clare."

"Or Eli."

"Or Clare," Drew repeated. "Or we can go just the two of us."

Adam loosened up slightly. "I guess it has been a while since we've both gone _out _out together."

"Yeah!" Drew said, high-fiving Adam. "Now you can help me with my plan."

"Plan?"

.

oOo

.

Drew tilted down his straw cowboy hat and stood infront of the mirror, his hand hovering over his hip, ready to grab his imaginary gun. Yeah - he looked cool.

Adam on the other hand was dressed the same way he always was; in his dark baggy clothes.

"Why aren't you getting dressed up?" Drew asked, breaking away from his imaginary standoff.

"Yeah, I don't do that anymore," Adam shrugged.

"But you used to love playing cowboys!"

"No, not cowboys; just dress-up. I don't do that anymore."

The second punch to the gut wasn't any less unexpected, but this time Adam definitely seemed to notice. He cleared his throat and looked at Drew's own outfit.

"Why do you already own a cowboy hat and leather vest anyway?"

"It's not important," Drew said quickly. "What is important is that we carry out the plan exactly as I say. Do you remember your job?"

"Yes," Adam drawled. "Get rid of Jenna-"

"-by any means necessary-"

"By any means necessary," Adam echoed. "Then tell Alli that Jenna wants to meet her in a yet to be confirmed quiet location."

"And then I woo Alli with my charm, the relaxed atmosphere makes her totally fall for me and we make out," Drew finished assertively. "Mission complete."

"Well, I like it more than that love letter to yourself you tried to pull off this morning," Adam admitted.

"But do you think it will work?" Drew asked.

"I don't know. You'll just have to wait and see."

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oOo

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"You're not Jenna," Alli said, looking deeply unimpressed.

"I asked Adam to get you here," said Drew, sitting on the chair in the photo booth that Adam had led Alli to.

Alli didn't even hesitate before starting to walk away.

"Alli, hold up," Drew shouted after her. She at least had the courtesy to hear him out. "There's been other girls in my life, but they're not like you. You're smart, you like school, you can bang off an entire essay in a night."

Drew could feel his stomach twist; he had never told a girl how much he liked her before – he had never had to. It seemed like a really easy way of getting his heart stomped on, especially since Alli didn't look any happier after he had said it.

"Yeah, and?"

"I like that," Drew continued, figuring that he had already spilled his real feelings, a little more wasn't going to hurt. "I like never knowing what you're gonna say next."

This time Drew could see Alli's resolve weaken. His stomach started twisting again, but this time it wasn't out of fear.

"You do?" she asked.

"I'm not smart like you," Drew said, not quite meeting Alli's eye. "And if we dated, it would just be a matter of time before you dumped me."

Alli sighed and, much to Drew's surprise, crawled into the photo booth and onto Drew's lap.

"So when I did the essay for you," she said, wrapping her arms around him, "You thought I was calling you dumb."

" People have bee telling me that my entire life," Drew sighed, holding onto Alli. "Mom, dad, brother, Perino, and every other teacher I've ever had."

Alli took his hat off him and started running her hands through his hair. He felt a huge rush of gratitude and relief that she didn't just laugh in his face. He wasn't very good at talking about feelings, and he'd been spending the better part of the last six months pushing most of his own down into some inaccessible place. It felt good to talk to someone, it felt good to have her listen.

"There are two types of smart – book smarts and people smarts," Alli said, not letting go of Drew. "I've dated the book smart guy before, and trust me, it's overrated. People meet you and they love you right away."

"I just wish I would have been more people smart when it came to you," Drew admitted.

"Well," Alli grinned playfully, "since we're alone in here?"

Drew felt himself grin too.

"Might as well!"

Drew yanked to curtain shut, suspecting that they would be needing some privacy.

And he was right.

The glass on the inside of the booth had managed to steam up by the time they had finished making out. Alli used her finger to spell out "A.B hearts D.T" on the glass before fanning herself with Drew's cowboy hat.

"That was pretty incredible," she said, cooling herself down.

Drew took the hat out of her hands and put it back on his own head.

"Now when you say "was," that makes it sounds like our little make out session is over."

"You're right," she said, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck again. "How careless of me."

She moved in for the kiss when a booming voice forced her to jump to her feet.

"Alright cowboys and cowgirls," Sav yelled over the microphone. "I hope you're been practicing your grapevine, cause it's line dance time!"

Alli started hastily fixing her hair, moving further away from Drew as she did so.

"Mood killer?" Drew asked.

"Pretty much. Can't really make out when the soundtrack is your ye-hawing brother," she said, pulling the curtain open and picking up their photos. "But we'll always have these."

"I'd really like to do this again sometime," Drew said, fixing his collar.

"Well luckily, that's what girlfriends are there for," Alli said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

Girlfriend. Usually the word would have sent him into a blind panic, he tried to avoid labels when he could. But he though back to Alli when she said that there were two kinds of smart. If there were two kinds of smart, then maybe there were two kinds of girlfriend; the one that Drew had always been afraid of, the girl who would make him fall in love with her, realize that he's not worth it and then leave him, and the kind of girl who would accept him for him. And if the night's events were any indication, Alli Bhandari was the second one.

"So it went well then?"

Adam had wandered over, a knowing grin plastered across his face.

"She said she was my girlfriend," Drew said, feeling excited by saying the word out loud.

"And you didn't head for the hills?" Adam joked. "You must really like this girl, dude."

"Well she's a really good kisser," Drew shrugged. "And I've got the pictures to prove it."

"These aren't the kind of pictures that will get you grounded if Mom sees them are they?"

"Don't be gross dude," Drew said, punching Adam's arm. "I just realized something."

"That's never good."

"We don't have any new pictures together," Drew said excitedly. "We need photographs - no wait: brotographs!"

"That is the worst thing you have ever said."

"C'mere."

"This is kidnapping!"

"Sit down."

"There's nowhere to sit – and I am _not_ sitting on your knee!"

"I'll scooch over, look, sit there!"

"I'm not smiling."

"Wanna bet?"

"You can't make me"

For years to come Drew would often throw that photo strip into Adam's face; victoriously cheering that, in that very last photo, he had gotten his brother to smile.

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oOo

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"So how did you get rid of Jenna anyway?"

"I seduced her. With my animal magnetism."

"What the-"

"I told K.C. that Marisol wanted to talk to him, it didn't take Jenna long to notice."

"That's genius," Drew cheered. It was almost midnight and they were both walking pretty briskly to try and get home before curfew. "Do you know how to use the label maker?"

"And the segue of the year goes to-"

"No, you're not getting me," Drew explained. "I want to make little labels for Alli and me; so that we can show people that we're boyfriend and girlfriend."

"You're pretty stoked about this aren't you?" Adam teased.

"Yeah, I am," Drew said proudly. "I'm someone's boyfriend, the boyfriend of the cutest, smartest girl in school. So will you teach me how to use the label maker?"

"Sure," Adam sighed. "Believe it or not, I think this gesture might actually work. Not like your Football: The Musical act."

"Hey, it took me a long time to choreograph that!"

"You rhymed "scream" with "league", no wonder she hated it!"

Drew pulled Adam into a headlock as they approached the front door.

"Well, if you helped me with it instead of laughing your ass off-"

Drew stopped. He had opened the door to find Mom standing in the hallway clutching the phone. She had a look of deep concern on her face. Drew felt his stomach twist again and just stood and watched as Adam walked up to her, mirroring her worried expression

"Mom?" he said. "Is something wrong?"

Mom stared at the floor, sighing deeply. "That was Grams on the phone."

"Is everything ok?" Adam asked, sounding alarmed. "Did something happen?"

"Oh, no, Grams is fine," Mom assured him. "She was just calling to say that she felt awful that she couldn't come over for Thanksgiving."

She sighed again, staring at Adam with a remorseful look on her face.

"So she's booked herself a hotel room and coming over for dinner. Next week."

Adam took a few steps backwards, tensing up and preparing to go into panic mode. But Mom wasn't finished.

"I think we have some… arrangements to make."

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oOo

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_- I'm really starting for feel bad for Jenna here – Drew just really hates her! _

_In the next chapter: Something about bodies and cages – I forget exactly what…_


	26. Blue Monday

_Ohmygawd you guys! MBIAC is finally here! Can you believe it? (I can't!)_

_I'm doing a double chapter upload this time, because I feel the content of chapter 26, whilst important, doesn't pay off until chapter 27 (but the tone is too different to make them one chapter.)_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "My Body is a Cage (1)"_

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oOo

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Chapter 26 - Blue Monday

Adam was in a bad mood.

He got like that sometimes; he'd be grumpy for a day two with no apparent explanation and then he'd be fine again. Drew couldn't work out the rhyme or reason behind it, only that every couple of weeks, without warning, he'd have to be prepared for a few days of Adam the Grouch. And Adam the Grouch complained – a _lot._

He complained about having to get up early because Drew had football practice.

He complained that his toast was burnt.

He complained about having to sit in the back seat (Drew was familiar with the drill and surrendered the front seat to him in exchange for at least a little bit of peace.)

He complained over Drew's choice of music.

He complained that it was playing too loudly.

Adam was turning the volume down when Drew finally complained back

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"It's too early for all those decibels," Adam moaned.

Drew pushed himself forward to reach and turn the volume back up. "No, it gets me pumped for football!" He had almost reached the dial when Mom stopped the car by the front entrance of the school.

Adam threw himself back into his seat. "What am I supposed to do for _two hours_ until class starts?"

"Well, uh, why don't you watch Drew's practice?" Mom offered, but Adam wasn't buying it.

"And rot of boredom? I'd rather be playing - if I were allowed!"

Mom sighed and pressed her hand against her forehead. A part of Drew wanted to argue that Adam would most definitely _not_ rather be playing football, but decided that he valued his health too much to try talking back to Adam the Grouch.

"You said you'd talk to Simpson about transferring me to regular gym," Adam continued. "Can you do that? Like today?"

Mom took a deep breath; she was doing a pretty decent job of putting up with Adam's moodiness. "Like no, I can't, because you're a new student at the school and I think you should just fly under the radar for now, ok?"

Drew was inclined to agree but, out of self-preservation, didn't say anything. Adam _knew _that it was too risky for him to do regular gym. He didn't even _like _sports that much. Drew figured Adam was just complaining for complaining's sake.

"In _high school_ Mom?" Adam retorted. "No such thing! Besides, being in recreation class shines it's own special spotlight."

Drew could tell that Mom's patience was starting to wear thin and that she was having to try really hard to not turn the argument into another full-blown fight.

"Someone could find out Adam and if they do they could really hurt you," she said gently. Adam seemed to pick up on the concern in her voice and let up a little bit too.

"I have to ballroom dance today," he said.

Drew felt himself let out a snort of laughter; Adam was _not_ a dancer; he stood awkwardly rooted to the ground and swung his arms around without any regard for the tempo of the music or the innocent bystander's that he'd inevitably whack. Drew had once tried to teach Gracie to dance (in the living room before being her bodyguard at the niner's mixer) but realized pretty quickly that it was a hopeless case; even trying the old tactic of letting Gracie stand on his feet as he moved for both of them proved to be unsuccessful. Plus she kept trying to lead.

"If I'm getting hurt anywhere it's busting a Dancing With the Stars maneuver, not in regular old gym," Adam insisted. His mood had definitely lifted slightly. Drew decided that it was safe enough to intervene.

"Adam's got a point Mom," Drew said.

"Yes-" Mom sighed dismissively.

"_Zero rhythm_," Drew added, pulling a face at Adam, who thankfully cracked a smile.

"See?" he said, pointing to Drew.

"Yes, I see," Mom said flatly. "Off you go – bye."

Drew and Adam both started to get out of the car. Drew was quite impressed; that was the shortest instance of Adam the Grouch he had ever seen. Maybe it was a sign that things were starting to get better.

Or at least that was what Drew was hoping before Mom stopped them from leaving the car.

"Oh, wait- wait, wait," she said hurriedly, forcing both Drew and Adam to get back into their seats. "Grandma's coming in from Windsor on Wednesday."

Adam hesitated before replying. He and Mom had had a lot of fights about what they were going to do about Grams coming. As far as Drew could tell, they still hadn't reached a compromise.

"And?" Adam asked nervously.

"And," Mom started, "I thought it would be nice if Gracie could join us for dinner."

Drew could see Adam start to tense up again so decided that it would be the ideal time for a swift exit, before he got dragged into yet _another_ fight.

"God speed," he said to Adam, patting him on the shoulder before bolting.

Drew couldn't hear what Adam and Mom were saying in the car; they were both surprisingly non-shouty. He tried to remember a time when Adam and Mom didn't fight (and had to concede that there was _never _a time when Adam and Mom didn't fight because Adam's existence was the very reason they fought the way they did.) They used to be close, before Gracie started to get distant and angry, they used to have quiet little mother-daughter conversations with each other all the time.

Just the two of them.

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oOo

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"Come on champ, let's go for a ride."

Dad rattled the car keys and ushered Drew out of the door. Mom had taken Gracie up to her bedroom for some kind of secret chat.

"Where are we going?" Drew asked, climbing in the car and fastening his seatbelt.

"I don't know," Dad shrugged, fastening his own seatbelt, "we just need to give the girls a little private time for a while."

"Why?"

"Mom and Gracie just need to talk through some things, don't worry about it," Dad said, putting the keys into the ignition and reversing out of the driveway. "Wanna get a Happy Meal?"

Drew scoffed.

"Dad, I'm twelve. I'm _way_ too old for Happy Meals."

"Well I still like Happy Meals, and I'm nearly_ twice_ your age!" Dad said, grinning. "Come on, help your old man to feel a little less old."

"Dad-"

"I think they're doing Hot Wheels cars again."

"Fine," Drew relented, "but I'm not playing with the toy!"

Dad sighed, but kept smiling.

"Gosh you two are growing up so fast," he said in a strangely distant voice. "You and all your little girlfriends, outgrowing Happy Meals, and Gracie…"

Dad trailed off, Drew looked over at him curiously.

"Gracie what?"

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oOo

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"She's just so… _eurgh_!"

Adam had stormed out of the car and had caught up with Drew in the hallway.

"It went well then?" Drew asked.

"Funnily enough I said no," Adam deadpanned. "It's been nearly_ six months_ - you'd think she'd have, I don't know, lightened up a little by now!"

Drew stayed quiet as they walked through the abandoned hallways. Had it really been six months? He did the math; Gracie disappeared at the end of April – it was now the middle of September. Had it really been that long? That just didn't seem right to Drew; he thought things would have been more different half a year in. He had expected to feel more adjusted, he had expected Mom to be more accepting. And then there was that other part of him, the one that secretly, just the tiniest bit, that thought maybe Adam would-

"I'm so tired of this."

Adam slammed his locker shut; he _looked_ tired, ill even, like the very idea of walking around was exhausting.

"You feeling ok?" Drew asked, giving Adam his backpack back and taking a good look at just how pale and queasy he was looking.

"I'm just wiped out," Adam sighed. "Probably because I'm at school _two hours_ earlier than usual."

Drew punched him on the arm. "Come on, wanna watch me kick ass at football?"

"I can _hardly_ wait."

Drew and Adam parted ways, Adam heading for the bleachers and Drew for the changing rooms. He was the last to arrive for practice, having to face a stern glare from Armstrong, midway through his usual pep talk.

"Drew, thank you for joining us," he droned as Drew sheepishly made a seat for himself between K.C. and Owen.

"_As I was saying_," Armstrong continued, peering over at Drew, "our next game is against Montgomery; we win this and we take top of the league. That means I want to see your best in practice today."

Drew's felt his attention pick up at the mention of Montgomery; the school that almost was. What would things have been like if he had stayed there? They'd definitely be different; he probably wouldn't have had a girlfriend for one thing (one of the serious disadvantages of attending an all-boys school), he'd never have even _met_ Alli – or K.C. or Owen or anybody. It was incredible to think how different his life could have been if he hadn't gone to Degrassi; a decision he had only made so that he could watch over Adam, who, as it turned out, wasn't having any problems at school and didn't really need Drew's help there.

Armstrong clapped his hands together, shaking Drew out of his daydream.

"Come on," Armstrong yelled over the racket of two dozen teenaged boys getting ready to play some football, "I want everybody on the field in five minutes!"

Everyone on the team knew better than to disregard Armstrong's orders and made it to the playing fields in three.

"We got an audience," Owen said nudging Drew, who looked over to see Adam sitting in the bleachers, nose buried in a textbook and fidgeting uncomfortably, constantly changing his sitting position - knees up, knees down, legs crossed, legs uncrossed, leaning back, leaning forward - it looked like even more effort than Drew's practice.

"It's just Drew's brother," K.C. replied shrugging.

"Huh, he looks just as stoked as my brother would be if he had to watch us practice," Owen muttered before securing his helmet.

"We're not _that_ bad," K.C. insisted.

"I know," Owen sighed, "he's just that _lame_."

"Hey, my brother's not lame," Drew yelled, "he's just-"

He wasn't entirely sure how to finish that sentence; he's just grouchy? He's just bone-idle? He's just transgender? Drew was pretty sure Adam wasn't "just" anything.

Armstrong blew his whistle. Drew wouldn't have time to wonder what exactly Adam "just" was.

He had a practice to worry about.

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oOo

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"Hey, I was watching that!"

Gracie was sitting on the couch, hugging a cushion and watching an action movie. Sylvester Stallone was pulling bizarre faces at Sandra Bullock when Drew changed the TV over.

"I finally got the new Madden," Drew retorted, "I _have_ to play this."

"But they were just about explain what the three seashells are for!" Gracie moaned.

"You can be my P2," Drew offered, but Gracie remained in her huff.

"I don't feel good," she groaned, "I just want to sit and not do anything!"

She had been in a funny mood since the day before when Dad took Drew for a drive. She wouldn't even take Drew's happy meal toy, complaining that they were for kids. Drew tried to argue that eleven was still a kid (twelve was when you became a proper adult) but that seemed to make her even angrier.

"Why are you so immature?" She had yelled, pushing Drew, and the Hot Wheels car from his meal, away.

Drew had went to push her back, but Dad stepped in.

"Ok, Drew, leave your sister alone," he warned.

"But she pushed me first!"

"Yeah, because he's being a stupid idiot!" Gracie yelled from behind Dad.

Usually Dad would have scolded Gracie for name calling, but he was being weirdly easy on her.

"Drew, why don't you take your car and go to your room?" Dad said.

"-But-"

"-Gracie's not feeling too great today, ok?" Dad said. "Just give her a bit of space."

Drew was going to shout back, but he didn't have a clue what the argument was about, so he surrendered and shuffled up to his room.

He made ramps for his new Hot Wheels car. He figured if people were going to treat him like a child, then he may as well act like one.

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oOo

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"What you reading?" Drew asked Alli, leaning over her shoulder.

"Just stuff for my malaria project," Alli replied. "Remind me never-"

"-Never go to Uganda," Drew said before she could finish.

Alli turned and smiled at him, astonished.

"Ok, how-"

"I just know you really well," Drew said grinning and kissing her.

"Really?" she asked coyly. "What else do you know about me?"

"I know that you're the smartest person in this school," he said, moving around to sit beside her on the hallway bench. "I know that you're a great kisser."

"Hmm," she said, smiling. "I want to know more about this smart, amazing kisser. Please elaborate."

"It's too crowded in the hallway," Drew said, looking Alli up and down, "why don't we find a cozy little corner somewhere and… elaborate there?"

"Eh," Alli groaned, "I'm feeling kinda gross today - and tired. Sorry."

"Yeah, Adam was feeling tired too. Maybe there's something going around?"

Alli raised her eyebrows.

"I'm pretty your brother doesn't has the same thing I have!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I _seriously_ doubt he has the predisposition to it."

Drew was still confused, but didn't question it. "Well I don't have a predisposition to anything," he said, having one last attempt at a make out session. "So you don't have to worry about passing any of your cooties on to me."

He moved in to wrap his arms around her waist, but she slunk away.

"No," she moaned, "I look disgusting-"

"-You look perfect."

"I'm not in the mood- _Drew_!

She had pushed him away quite forcefully. Drew sat there, taken aback by Alli's sudden weirdness.

"Just," she started before letting out a long sigh, "just not today ok?"

Drew nodded, still dazed.

"Sure, whatever you want."

Alli groaned and pulled herself closer to Drew again.

"I'm sorry. You're here being all sweet boyfriend, and I'm acting like a she-demon."

"No, it's fine," Drew said hastily. He didn't bother trying to hold her again; he didn't know how she would react to it.

Alli stood up, tightly holding onto her purse.

"I really have to work on this project," she said feebly. "Call me later?"

"Ok."

Alli got up, clutching her purse against her chest and slowly walking towards the direction of the library.

He didn't know what was wrong with her, but he was willing to be it was the _exact_ same thing that was wrong with Adam.

He really hoped it wasn't contagious.

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oOo

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"Can Gracie come out?"

It was Ritchie Langley, one of Gracie's dorky little guy friends. Drew had answered the door to find him standing there, BMX bike lying behind him, the back wheel still spinning.

"She's not feeling well," Drew explained. He had just spent the last two hours listen to her complain whilst he tried to play Madden and was starting to wonder if maybe he could make her leave somehow.

Then he realized that Ritchie was offering Drew a chance for some peace and quiet.

"But maybe the fresh air will do her good," He quickly added before yelling back into the house. "Gracie! Ritchie's at the door!"

He heard her grumbling as she pushed herself off the couch, she stomped over to the door, still clinging onto her cushion.

"What is it?" she snapped at Ritchie, who was standing by the doorframe and flashing his braces with a goofy smile.

"The guys are all gonna go BMXing," he said brightly. "Wanna come?"

"That sounds like fun," Drew said encouragingly, "doesn't it Gracie?"

Gracie glared at him.

"Do you mind?" she hissed at Drew.

Drew made his was back to the living room and unpaused his game, stealing some of Gracie's cheese puffs as he did so.

He didn't hear their conversation, but he did hear the front door slam shut and Gracie storming back to the sofa, still tightly clutching her cushion.

"He just doesn't _get it_!" she whinged. Drew tried to chew as quietly as possible, fearing what Gracie might to him if she realized that he had stolen some of her food.

"So you're staying in?" Drew asked, trying not to sound as disappointed as he felt.

"I can't go cycling," she explained, "I'm… I'm not feeling well!"

"Well you're well enough to eat cheese puffs and yell at everybody," Drew muttered. "I'm sure riding a bike isn't going to kill you."

Gracie pushed herself off the couch again, throwing her cushion aggressively on the spot where she had been sitting.

"You don't understand anything do you?" she asked fiercely.

Drew was inclined to agree; he didn't understand Gracie at all in that moment. Why was she so angry? What had Mom told her? Why were she and Dad letting Gracie get away with being such a pain?

And why did Drew get the sinking feeling that this was going to be a regular occurrence?

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oOo

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"What's taking her so long?" Mom asked, craning her neck out of the car window to get a better look at the school's front entrance. "Did she tell you she was staying late?"

"No," Drew answered. "I thought he was coming straight home."

Drew was starting to worry. School had been out for almost fifteen minutes and he had seen no sign of Adam. He had spotted Clare, who appeared to be looking for someone with a concerned look on her face (Drew told himself that this could involve any number of people and probably had nothing to do with Adam). It wasn't like him to be late getting home; not when there was food and television waiting for him.

"I should go check," Mom muttered, twisting back around to unbuckle her seatbelt.

"No need, he's coming now."

Drew spotted Adam, head down, darting towards the car. He silently jumped into the back seat, not even saying hello let alone explaining why he was running so late.

"Ok, everybody's back," Mom said. "Home time."

Adam didn't make a single sound on the car journey home. He looked frightfully pale, chewing on his bottom lip.

He wasn't in a bad mood. He wasn't Tired. He wasn't ill.

He was scared; something bad had happened.

A nauseous feeling jumped into Drew's stomach – he was starting to think that he had a predisposition to Alli's illness after all.

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oOo

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_- Hmm, so Adam gets moody for a few days every four weeks with no apparent cause? Oh Drew, you so stoopid sometimes!_

_- Emma Nelson may have watched soap operas during hers, but real men watch action movies during shark week! _

_- It took an incredible amount of willpower (and a little bit of convincing from the lovely Tumblr folks) not to call this chapter Bloody Monday (I'm a child and I'm sorry.)_

_In the next chapter: Drew thinks he wants to know what's wrong with Adam. Turns out that he really doesn't! _


	27. Oh

_Oh, hi. Back so soon? (Not that I'm not happy to see you – I always am!)_

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Chapter 27 - Oh.

Drew didn't hear a single peep out of Adam until dinnertime that evening. It made him nervous; he even sort of wanted Adam the Grouch back - at least Drew knew what to expect with Adam the Grouch.

Adam the Mime was just plain unnerving.

"You've barley touched your dinner," Mom said looking at Adam's mostly intact plate.

"I'm not feeling too great," Adam said, laying on the pathetic as thickly as possible.

"What's wrong honey?" Mom said, raising her hand to his forehead. "Are you coming down with something?"

"Uh-huh," Adam whimpered, Drew wasn't sure what Adam was after, but he was definitely after _something_. If something was genuinely wrong, Adam would be doing his best to pretend that everything was fine.

"What is it, are you fluish? Should I call the doctor?"

"I think it's just a bug or something," Adam sighed. "I don't think I should go to school tomorrow."

Bingo. Drew raised his eyebrows at Adam, who clearly wasn't fooling Mom either. He took her hand off his head and reclined in her seat, folding her arms.

"Is this your way of trying to get out of dinner with Grandma?" she asked, no longer displaying a hint of sympathy.

"No," Adam said defensively, before adding quietly, "just school."

Mom's mouth tightened. "Well maybe if you're really feeling tired, you should just go to bed. Obviously if you're not well enough for school, then you're not well enough for desert."

"Urgh, fine!"

Adam pushed his full plate away and stood up, stomping all the way up the stairs and slamming the door shut.

Mom looked over to Drew knowingly. She didn't even have to ask.

"Why do I always have to be the one to go after him?" Drew moaned, knowing fine well why it was always him.

He grabbed a few of Adam's untouched fries (Drew hated to see food go to waste) before following him up the stairs.

"Thank you, honey," Mom called up after him.

Drew knocked on Adam's door.

"_What?_"

"It's me, I'm coming in."

Adam was sitting cross-legged on the bed, head buried in a schoolbook; he must have really been desperate to avoid talking to anyone if he was actually _choosing_ to study.

Drew sat on the bed and stared Adam down until he put the book away.

"What now?" Adam said grumpily.

"Why don't you want to go to school tomorrow," Drew asked. "Y'know, other than the fact that it's _school_."

"What's it to you?"

Drew rolled his eyes. "Hey, I was gonna help sneak you up some desert, but if you're going to be a toddler about it-"

"Ok, fine. Sit."

Adam avoided eye contact, his grumpiness shifting into apprehensiveness.

"I-" he started, "I made an ass of myself in front of Clare. Like really badly. Like _please let the ground swallow me up_ badly"

Drew felt a wave of relief wash over him. That was it? He had just done something dumb in front of Clare? Drew had been worried that Adam had landed himself in some serious trouble - that he had been found out.

It was just a case if being stupid in front of a girl – hell, Drew did that all the time.

"That's all?" Drew asked lightly. "C'mon dude, you acted dumb in front of a crush-"

"-Not a crush; just friends-"

"-That's just high school for you. It's not that bad."

"Wanna bet?" Adam said flatly.

"Try me."

Adam took a deep breath - this was going to be a long story.

"I had come out of recreation," he began. "You know I said we were doing ballroom?"

"And Clare saw how truly terrible your dance moves are?" Drew joked. "Actually, I'd be pretty horrified if I were you too-"

"-No that wasn't it. Clare wasn't even there."

"Then why are you telling me about-"

"Hey, do you want to hear what happened or not?"

Drew mimed zipping his mouth shut.

"Alright then," Adam said, sounding uncannily like Mom. "So I get to partner up with _the _hottest girl in the class - so awesome - and afterwards she's all over me, saying how amazing I am as a partner."

Drew was willing to bet that Adam was embellishing the story slightly, but had already received a warning so stayed quiet.

"That's when..." Adam started to say before stopping and looking away anxiously.

"I…" he continued, choosing his words carefully, "I… _became aware_ that I had to get something from my locker and as I was leaving with… that thing, I bumped into Clare and she saw what I had and… it got weird."

Drew nodded. He understood; the exact same thing had happened to him before. When he was in grade 9, he and some friends found a stack of old issues of Penthouse beside a dumpster by the video arcade, other than some crinkled, weirdly rigid corners, they were in perfectly good condition and why anyone would throw them away was a mystery to Drew. They had divided them up amongst themselves (with Drew claiming the covers with the feistiest looking brunettes for himself when he could) and took them home. Drew ended up storing them in his locker at school, knowing that Mom would definitely find them if he hid them in his room, and then he'd have to get another horrifying lecture about objectifying women. A few weeks went by and Drew managed not to get caught. Then one day he was pulling out a textbook for Yvette Dalton and one of them fell open onto the floor, the centerfold visible to everyone who walked past. Luckily Yvette was cool and didn't tell anyone. Then Drew hooked up with her at Marc's New Year's party, so really it was all ok in the end.

Drew felt himself grin, he had an image of sweet religious Clare catching Adam with a bunch on girlie magazines and being totally horrified. He had to know the details; the potential hilarity was too great to miss.

"So what was it?" he asked, thinking he had a pretty good idea of exactly what Clare had seen; really, what _other_ embarrassing thing could a teenage boy have stored in his locker?

"You don't want to know," Adam warned.

"Oh - I do, I really, really do."

"Drew-"

"C'mon dude – tell me, what was it? Was it Playboy? Hustler? I bet it was Hustler – that would be so-"

"It was _tampons_!" Adam blurted, as if the lid had popped off from the pressure of the words building up from behind it. "It was a big box of tampons! And I was just about to go to the washroom when Clare comes out of nowhere and bumps into me, and they just… fly everywhere, like… a dozen tampons rolling about all over the floor. And Clare goes to pick them up and she's all _"what?"_ and I'm just kneeling there like an idiot. Oh, and then Fitz and Owen walk past and they see everything, so I start giving the tampons to Clare – I'm just kneeling there throwing tampons at her! And then they both go away and I have to ask Clare for them back and I bolt without any explanation whatsoever."

Adam, apparently having used up all his energy relaying the events of the day, collapsed face first onto his pillow and groaned.

Drew didn't want to know after all; he really, _really _didn't want to know.

He could feel the heat of blood rushing to his face – _no, not blood; don't think about blood at a time like this!_ Drew didn't know what to do; other than to tell Adam too bad, jump off the bed, run to the basement and shoot virtual people in the face. Drew liked to tell himself that Adam being trans meant that he used to be a girl and now he wasn't anymore and that it was as clear and simple as that. But obviously it wasn't; there were things that Adam would never be able to change about himself, no matter how many people treated him as one of the guys. Drew felt his neck grow very hot; He never knew what he was supposed to do about Adam's "female problems" and tried to forget that they existed whenever possible; it was too out of Drew's functioning, he didn't understand – it was too weird, too intense, _way_ too uncomfortable. He didn't know how to deal with it. He only knew one way to cope with the awkwardness that was Adam's anatomy.

Drew looked at Adam, pushed face down onto his bed. He looked so tiny. So vulnerable. It didn't take much imagination for Drew to do what he did next.

Drew had to pretend that he was talking to Gracie.

It made him a terrible person, he _knew_ it made him a terrible person, but the only other solution was running away and trying to scourge all of the awkward out of his brain. If he was going to talk about girl problems, he had to talk with a girl.

Yeah, it was still uncomfortable, but it was substantially less _weird_.

"Well maybe she didn't know they were… uh," Drew said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away_ -for goodness sake, grow up; it's simple biology – you can say tam- you can say that word!_ "Maybe she thought they were… pencils?"

Adam pulled his face out of his pillow and sat up, staring at Drew; staring with those giant Gracie eyes.

"_Why would she think they were pencils?_"

"I don't know," Drew mumbled, trying to look at everything and nothing at the same time. He found himself focusing intently on the carpet. What color was that, cream? Beige, is beige a color? He was sure that he had a jacket that color once; where _was_ that jacket anyway? He was certain he remembered unpacking it when they moved to Toronto-

"What am I gonna do?" Adam groaned, staring at the ceiling with his giant Gracie eyes.

Drew coughed to clear his already completely unobstructed throat. Why was he so bad at this? Other than the obvious fact that he was trying to talk about facets of nature he was by no means equipped to- _It's just Gracie. Sweet, nerdy Gracie – and she wants your advice. She needs you to be a good brother. _

Drew sighed.

"Look, Clare seems like a cool person," he said gently. "By _far_ the coolest of your friends. I'm sure she'd accept it if you didn't want to talk about it."

Drew looked up and saw Gracie, chewing nervously on her lip.

"You think so?"

Drew tugged at his sister's hair -w_hat was he doing? This was insane!_

"Absolutely."

He was about to in for a hug when he remembered that he wasn't actually talking to Gracie; it was Adam – and Adam didn't do hugs.

Drew pushed himself off of the bed before Adam could figure out what Drew was doing.

"You want anything?" Drew asked, suddenly aware that his arms were just stupidly sticking out and doing nothing. "Like, uh – there's ice cream in the freezer. Or, like, y'know, I could go to the store or-"

"Dude," Adam said flatly, "I'm not dying."

Drew started swinging his stupid awkward arms.

"Of course. Cool."

He threw a few playful jabs at Adam's shoulder before backing out of the room.

"Good night, or, well it's like 6pm so…"

"Drew?"

Drew stopped himself from walking away and turned back around to see Adam, clutching onto a pillow and smiling sweetly.

It was such a Gracie thing to do.

"Thanks."

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oOo

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Drew's steps were heavy as he walked back down the stairs. His whole body felt heavy; something that he wasn't usually so aware of, but at that moment he couldn't stop himself being so alert to it.

Mom was where he left her, sitting at the dinner table. She had poured herself a rather generous glass of wine. Drew sat on the chair opposite her.

"Is this about tomorrow night?" she asked.

"No, it's school stuff," Drew assured her, "I think he'll be fine though; just embarrassed himself infront of Clare."

"Clare?"

"One of his friends from school," Drew explained. "She's nice though."

"Good," Mom said, taking an unnecessarily large swig from the glass. "I'm not keen on the other one."

Drew grinned; at least someone else shared his views of Ghoulsworthy.

"Am I being unreasonable?"

Drew hadn't expected the question. He looked up at Mom, her eyes glued to his in anticipation for an answer; he could tell that she had spent all day thinking about it.

"You mean about Grams?"

"I don't think asking her to wear some of her old clothes for a few hours is too much, do you?"

Drew didn't respond right away, he and Mom both knew that is wasn't just about clothes and a name; it was what they represented – a lie, and all the pain that went along with maintaining it. Mom had to know that it was unreasonable. She just needed someone to agree with her so that she wouldn't have to feel so guilty.

But Drew wasn't really in a position to judge, he had just given girl advice to a baby sister that he didn't even have anymore.

"I think it's been a rough couple of months," Drew eventually said. "I don't think having a nice family dinner is too much to ask."

They both sat there in silence; two people trying to convince themselves that they were doing the right thing.

"You want some ice cream?" Mom asked, swirling the shallow remains of her wine in the bottom of the glass.

"Nah, I'm pretty tired," Drew said, getting up. "I'll probably just go to bed."

Mom stretched her arms out across the table, rotating her wrists and yawning.

"How did you turn out so good?" she asked, hey eyes half closed over from fatigue.

Drew smiled, leaning over the back of the chair he had just pushed back to the table.

"You wouldn't have allowed it any other way."

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oOo

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The water rushing from the taps seemed obscenely loud, almost angry, as it hit against the sink's porcelain. The volume made Drew's head pound. He threw his face into the cold water, hoping it would somehow wash away the twisted feelings that were currently overwhelming him.

It just made him feel more awake; more aware.

His head was throbbing more aggressively. He crouched down to the cupboard under the sink, rummaging for the aspirin and contemplating taking a little more than required – just to help him get to sleep better.

He took particular notice of a little tin box, it had always been there, but usually Drew erased it in his head, he never used it – it belonged to Adam. It was one of the few things that followed Adam from the old house to the new one and Drew had never put any thought to what could be inside.

Now it stuck out in the cupboard like a sore thumb, it was all he could see.

Drew pushed it to the back of the cupboard, hiding it behind an unopened mouthwash without taking a look inside – he had learned that there were some things that he didn't want to know. And if he didn't have to see them, he didn't have to wonder.

He went back to looking for the box of aspirin, he knew it was there somewhere; he had just put it there at the weekend – it hadn't even been opened yet.

He spotted it under a packet of soap and pulled it free.

The first thing he was were two pills missing from the top foil pack.

He took two for himself and tensely washed them down with a glass of water – why was Adam _flaunting _his weird problems to Drew, with his stupid little boxes and his blatant aspirin use. Hadn't he heard of being discrete?

He pushed his head under the water again, the water wasn't as sharp this time and it actually served to make him feel calmer. He didn't make any attempt to dry his face, instead letting the droplets fall and hit the water in the sink in an almost melodic fashion; it was oddly soothing.

Drew looked in the mirror even longer than he usually would. He had never really thought that looking the way he did was that much of a gift (other than the fact that he was obviously very good looking.) He wasn't the tallest guy in the world. Football had definitely made him broader, but he was hardly Mr. Universe. He wasn't perfect by any means, but at least there was nothing about him that would make him hate himself, at least not physically. Indeed, sometimes he did things that made him absolutely _despise_ himself, but he could always make up for it somehow. How do you make up for hating your own body? Especially when nature is constantly finding ways to make sure you can never forget what you can't bear about yourself?

Drew crouched down, opening the cupboard again and moving the little box he had hidden to the very front, in clear view.

He figured that Adam would probably need it.

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oOo

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_- Never stand in the way of Adam and desert – it won't end well for you!_

_- My goal is to get all of the MBIAC chapters uploaded before the season 12 premier – do you think it's doable?_

_In the next chapter: Drew discovers a new technique to get Adam out of the bathroom._


	28. Black Tuesday

_Happy Belated Canada Day everybody. Lets all watch Degrassi and eat poutine and butter tarts :D_

_MBIAC has a near impossible timeline to decipher (I can only conclude that the kids either have 20 minute breaks between each class, or they just really like hanging out at their school after home time.)_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "My Body is a Cage (1)"_

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oOo

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Chapter 28 - Black Tuesday

It took Drew a ridiculously long time to work out why he felt so resistant to getting out of bed; so heavy and full of unease.

It was day two of Let's Beat Montgomery practices; another obscenely early morning, but that wasn't the problem. Drew was well used to early morning practices.

The weather was pleasant enough, he thought, as he rolled out of bed and pushed himself towards the bathroom – nothing to worry about there.

A few sweet text messages from Alli before bedtime the evening before revealed that she was no longer in a funny mood, so it wasn't that.

As he opened the cupboard under the sink to get a fresh toothpaste, Drew was struck by the weighty feeling; he had crossed everything he could think of off his list, so why was he-

The little box had been moved again (slightly further to the right, nearer the hairbrush.)

Oh yeah – _that_.

He started brushing his teeth, perhaps a little _too_ forcefully. He was staring to think that Alli was sadly mistaken when she said that he was people smart; he had no idea what he was doing most of the time. Sure, he had his standard moves, he could be pretty charming when he wanted to be, but he was totally useless when it came to being remotely useful in serious situations. He had gone to bed the night before feeling like a pretty lousy person.

But at least he hadn't made Adam feel worse.

"Dude, hurry up," Adam said right on cue. "I need in."

Usually Drew would just tell him to just wait, but now, in his newfound awareness, he obediently threw his toothbrush into the sink and darted over to open the door.

"Wow," Adam said, grinning as the pushed past Drew. "Did I accidentally stumble across some cheat code to get you out of the bathroom faster?"

Drew did his very best not to nod. Adam's grin disappeared.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked apprehensively. "Is this about… about what I told you last night?"

He looked almost betrayed, as if Drew was somehow throwing the awkwardness of Adam's problems back at him on purpose. As if Drew was_ trying _to be weird about it.

No, he couldn't be weird about it; Adam would stop talking to Drew about things _completely_ if he thought Drew was going to be weird about it.

"No- no!" Drew said quickly, playfully shoving Adam, but maybe just a little too forcefully. "I'm done for now."

"You still have toothpaste on your face-"

"-The freshness wakes me up. In you go, have a nice bathroom!"

He ran down the stairs before Adam could argue, letting out a sigh that Drew would usually associate with relief. Mom leaned out the kitchen door; she was cooking a pretty impressive breakfast – she hardly ever cooked a full breakfast.

She must have been feeling _really_ guilty.

"You have a little something on your face," she said, pointing to her own cheek and then disappearing back into the kitchen.

Drew wiped his face with his pajama sleeve and helped himself to a glass of orange juice from a jug on the meticulously laid out beverage tray.

Like really, _really_ guilty.

"Shouldn't be too long," Mom sighed, emerging from the kitchen, sitting across from Drew and pouring herself a glass of grapefruit juice before "fixing" the jug that Drew had touched.

"You know it's not my birthday month right?" Drew asked, grinning. "It's a while yet 'til JanDrewary."

"I know, I know," she said, turning her glass in her hands. "But there's no rule that says I can't just make a nice family breakfast-"

"-In preparation for a nice family dinner?"

Mom sank a little bit.

"Do you think it will work?"

"Honestly?" Drew said, "If food doesn't win him over then nothing will."

She was so close to smiling, he could tell.

"_Nothing_, I say," he added. "Not even money, with which he could buy _more _food!"

She actually _laughed_. Drew was pretty sure he hadn't seen one of those in a long time, and even then, it would never usually be caused by Drew, at least not on purpose. It was weird; were he and Mom _friends_? Was that even possible?

"Ah," she sighed, smile still on her face. "I should go check on breakfast. And you should go get changed; you'll be late."

Drew finished his juice and ran upstairs to get dressed. He didn't usually bother with a full shower before practice; he was just going to get gross and have to shower _again_ anyway.

But he _did_ like to have his hair done; nobody could know who they were going to bump into during an early practice.

And really, there was only so long that Drew could let Adam hog the bathroom- even if there _were_ special circumstances to take into consideration. Drew had special circumstances too – he had to make sure his hair looked good!

He gently tapped on the bathroom door.

"Bro?" He asked. "You gonna be long in there – not that it's a problem if you are, of course." _Urgh, why was he so awkward?_

"I'm almost finished," Adam chimed. That was good enough for Drew; he didn't need to hear anymore than that. Any more than that would be too much information.

"Ok, take your time," Drew said, stupidly. Why would he even say that? He didn't need Adam to take his time; he needed Adam to get out of the bathroom so that Drew could finish getting ready.

He paced on the landing for a minute or two before giving up and retreating to his bedroom to pace some more. He was doing his best to be understanding, but it was starting to get a bit ridiculous; if Adam didn't hurry up, Drew would have to go to school with stupid looking hair.

He had to get Adam out of the bathroom. He just had to not be _weird _about it. Drew could do that; he could _totally_ act like a normal person.

He knocked on the bathroom door impatiently, much like a normal person in a normal situation would.

"Come on, let me in," he said to the bathroom door normally. "I need to do my hair."

"I'm almost done," the bathroom door insisted.

This time Drew needed to stand his ground; he needed to stop being such a wimp when it came to defying Adam.

"You said that, like, ten minutes ago," he informed the door. "It took you less time to get ready when you were a _girl._"

Drew could hear Adam's quick footsteps as he darted towards the door. Maybe Drew had gone too far; he still wasn't totally sure where The Line was when it came to making jokes at Adam's expense.

The door flew open. It wasn't the only thing that was open; Adam hadn't quite gotten around to buttoning up his shirt yet, meaning that Drew had a pretty clear view of what lay underneath.

_Act like a normal person_ he reminded himself, even though he wasn't sure what the normal reaction to somebody seeing their brother's bandaged-up boobs was exactly.

"I was a never a girl," Adam hissed, "idiot."

Drew pushed past him, it seemed like the thing that brothers were supposed to do.

"Got you to open the door though, didn't I?" he teased as he approached the mirror to finally fix his bedhead, but Adam, who had decided that he hadn't hogged the bathroom _quite_ enough for one day, stood infront of him.

He probably wanted Drew to say something, but _what_ he wanted Drew to say was a total mystery.

"So…" Drew began, trying to remember the last thing they had both talked about (other than the fact that it was based around a very uncomfortable subject). "Do you think Clare told anyone?"

Adam shrugged uselessly. "Maybe Eli?"

It wasn't what Drew wanted to hear. He wasn't even aware that Clare was friends with Ghoulsworthy too (and it seemed quite bizarre; why would a sweet innocent girl like Clare want to hang out with a weird creeper like Eli?)

Drew pushed Adam out of the way of the mirror and proceeded to preen. Adam just sort of leaned there doing nothing, as if waiting for Drew to say something else.

But Mom was the next one to speak.

"Guys, your breakfast is getting cold," she called from downstairs.

"Ok, we're coming," Drew yelled back.

"Is she still in the bathroom."

Adam made an unnecessarily dramatic face.

"Really Mom? Pronoun problems, still?"

"Sorry Adam," she said in the least apologetic voice Drew had heard. "Let's go!"

Adam shook his head and went back to the mirror with Drew. "I swear she does that on purpose."

Drew _knew_ that she did that on purpose, but chose to refute Adam's claims.

"Nah, she just forgets," Drew insisted. He wasn't entirely sure when he started siding with Mom, or even why; it wasn't like he agreed with what she was doing. But it wasn't really like he was picking her side _over_ Adam's – he was just standing in both corners. He was neutral, like one of those countries that didn't fight during the war (like Italy or something.)

"But I bet she's hoping you'll switch back to girl-mode for Grandma tomorrow," he added. It sounded so simple when he put it like that; just put on some glasses and pretend to be Clark Kent for a while – it's for a good cause.

"You _sons _will be down in a second," Adam shouted sardonically. Drew made a quick exit before he could become the target of Adam's annoyance. He felt absolutely exhausted.

And he hadn't even had breakfast yet.

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oOo

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Adam fidgeted in seat for the entered car ride to school. It reminded Drew of Adam's constant repositioning at the practice the day before. He wasn't usually so twitchy and uncomfortable, what was the sudden-

Oh yeah – _that_.

Music. The car ride just needed music. Then nobody would be uncomfortable (apart from Adam, but there was nothing Drew could do about that.)

Drew distracted himself by surfing that stations whilst Adam pulled at his seatbelt in the backseat. By the time they got to school, Drew was pretty convinced that Adam had somehow managed to maneuver to the opposite side of the car.

"Have a nice day," Mom called from the window as Drew and Adam exited the car and dragged themselves towards the school.

"Not likely," Adam muttered as she drove away.

Drew didn't respond as they pushed through the front doors. The silence continued until they got to the lockers.

"I'm probably just going to go to the library today," Adam said. "I have some homework to do. I couldn't really concentrate on it yesterday."

"Because of the Clare thing?"

"I mean, she's not stupid Drew," Adam said in a hushed voice although no one else was around. "What's she going to think I had them for – a nosebleed? How dumb would you have to be to believe that?"

Adam leaned against the wall in, knocking his head against it in frustration.

"I've been thinking about it," he said, starting at the floor. "Being uninformed leads to being misinformed, right?"

Drew nodded, although he wasn't totally clear on the difference between the two.

"So if I just tell her the truth and let her ask any questions she might - well _will_ - have, then at least she won't come to the wrong conclusion."

"Uh, yeah sure," Drew offered pointlessly.

"And if she knew, then I'd have someone that I could talk to about stuff."

Adam looked almost hopeful; it was pretty much the polar opposite of what those words made Drew feel.

"And Eli?"

Adam chewed on his lip.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I mean Eli isn't the most masculine guy in the world, but I think he has me beat!"

"Dude, Eli has _no _business judging other people for being different," Drew assured him.

Adam smiled weakly and pushed himself off the wall, walking to the end of the corridor before they would both go their separate ways. Before they separated, Adam turned to Drew and gave him a mordant grin.

"Do you ever get the feeling that it's just going to be a bad day?"

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oOo

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Owen had come to practice in full jerk mode.

Armstrong had recruited him to hold the ball so that Zane could practice kicking a filed goal. And Owen had decided that he was going to make it as difficult for Zane as possible.

"And this is why you don't let queers on the football team," he jeered when Armstrong was far enough out of earshot. "Too scared to kick a ball properly incase they get their shoes dirty."

Zane managed to keep his composure as he threw the ball back to Owen.

"-If you didn't pull away every time I approached-"

"-Do you hear that guys?" Owen bellowed. "Tinkerbell here's getting all cut up inside because he can't get close to me."

"Owen!" Armstrong yelled, jogging back to their side of the field. "You want to be on this team, then act like a team player. Just hold the ball. Go on Zane."

Zane stepped back into place and then ran towards the ball again. Drew definitely saw Owen tilt the ball at the last second, causing it to spiral to the side after Zane kicked it."

"Drew, take Owen's place. Owen – change room," Armstrong ordered. "All you had to do is hold the ball straight."

Owen stood up and started skulking back to the school building, but not before Zane could say something just loud enough for Owen and Drew to hear.

"Honestly Owen, can't you do _anything_ straight?"

Owen held the grudge long after practice and didn't seem to get any less annoyed after venting to Drew in the change room.

"I mean, who does that fairy-boy think he is?" he fumed as Drew busied himself by carefully folding his practice uniform. "He says _I _can't do anything straight? Really?"

Drew would have pointed out that Owen seemed to have missed the joke, but didn't want to infuriate him more – he had seen what Owen had done to people who he didn't approve of.

"If I see his smug face again today, I swear to god."

Owen stopped angrily pacing, apparently thinking of _exactly_ what he would do if his saw Zane's smug face again that day.

"Just because I don't have a chick permanently attached to my side, you know?" Owen continued, "I don't want to get caught up with girls and all their drama."

"I hear you," Drew offered, hoping he could perhaps distract Owen from his own wrath, "sometimes you just want to get in, get what you want, then say "bye and thanks for all the memories"."

Owen grinned, but it didn't do much for Drew's sense of relief.

"Is that what you've got going with Bhandari?" he asked. "Get her sweet then-"

"-Take the honey?"

"I wouldn't blame you, man."

Drew wasn't sure if he should have been offended or not; Owen was basically asking him if he was only after Alli for sex. They hadn't even _discussed _sex yet, at least not seriously. It wasn't like he _wouldn't_ want to take the relationship to the next level – he would have usually done that by now anyway. But he quite liked what he had with Alli; for once in his life, he actually liked just talking.

"Are you guys nearly done? Armstrong wants to lock up."

Riley had appeared at the door; Drew wasn't sure how long he had been standing there.

"Yeah," Owen said, standing up and flinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Just talking shop."

Owen brushed past Riley and Drew followed, he could see Riley grin out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah. Sure you were."

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oOo

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Dumb shop talk aside, Drew was really looking forward to seeing Alli again. He spent his morning classes texting her under his desk when he was sure he could get away with it. He didn't always get a response (apparently Alli was less prepared to get in trouble then Drew was), but it still felt nice knowing that Alli was back to normal again.

When he finally did get a chance to see her, at lunchtime in the cafeteria, he had gotten enough nice replies on his phone to assure himself that Alli wasn't going to act weird that day. When he got to the cafeteria, he spotted her almost instantly, but she was too busy talking to some guy to notice him. Her back was to him and he couldn't see her face, but he was pretty sure she'd be happy to see him. As he made his way to her table, Drew wondered what it was that had put her in such a funny mood in the first place. What could have possibly-

Oh yeah - _that_.

_Normal person_, he reminded himself. _Act like a normal person._

"Hey genius," he said, wrapping his arms around Alli's waist from behind her. "I've been thinking about you all morning."

"Afternoon Drew," said the guy sitting beside her. Drew's face fell; it was Sav.

And he didn't look happy to see him.

"El Presidente," Drew said nervously. "Great job on implementing Taco Tuesday; I was just about to go get one-"

"First sit," Sav said darkly. "We need to have a little chat."

"Oh my god," Alli groaned, pushing her head into her hand.

Sav's glare followed Drew as he sat down at the table, opposite to his girlfriend's big brother.

"What are your intentions with my sister?"

"Sorry?"

"You heard me," Sav said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "You want to date my sister, I need to know what your intentions are with her."

"Sav, just go away," Alli sighed.

"Look, Sav," Drew started. "I don't know what's brought this on, but Alli and I have been official for a while now. I don't think you have anything to worry abo-"

"-Sometimes you just want to get in, get what you want, then say "bye and thanks for all the memories"? Get her sweet then take the honey?"

"How do you even-"

"I was on the football team last year. I'm pretty good friends with most of the guys. News gets back to me."

Riley. It was probably Riley.

To Drew's utter atonishment, it was Alli who came to his defense.

"Then you _know_ that the stuff guys say in locker rooms is just stupid macho crap that nobody actually believes."

"Alli stay out of this," Sav muttered.

"Uh, you want me to stay out of a discussion that directly concerns my life?"

"You don't know anything about guys like Drew," Sav insisted.

Drew would have interjected, and suggested that maybe Sav didn't know anything about guys like Drew either, but he knew that Sav still had to explain that Alli was too smart for Drew, and Alli had to counteract that, since she was so smart, he had nothing to worry about.

"C'mon Alli, you know better than to fall for this-"

"-Well if I know better, then I should be fine, shouldn't I?"

It all seemed horribly familiar.

Drew's attention was diverted from the argument when he caught a glimpse of people at a distant table staring at them. They quickly looked away when they saw that Drew had caught them, but they had definitely been staring. Did they think that Drew and Sav were going to fight? _Were _they going to fight? Drew looked around further; a lot people seemed to be whispering and pointing. He eventually spotted Bianca DeSousa, the school skank, strutting from table to table and whispering to people – presumably about the fight Drew and Sav were apparently going to have. Drew guessed that she was taking bets on who would win; it seemed like the kind of things girls like Bianca would do. He really hoped that it wasn't going to end in a fight; fighting wasn't really Drew's strong suit. Thankfully, Sav didn't really seem like fighting type.

Still, the staring was getting pretty unnerving.

"Hey, guys?" Drew tried to interject between Sav and Alli's bickering. "People are staring-"

"This doesn't concern you Drew," Sav said, even though just two minutes earlier it had absolutely concerned Drew. But he knew that nothing took priority over the arguments people had with their siblings. Siblings were weird like that.

Drew sat quietly and listened to the eerily predictable argument until K.C. approached him from nowhere and tapped him nervously on the shoulder.

"Uh, dude," he asked in a hushed voice. "Are you free to talk to right now?"

Drew looked over to Sav and Alli, who seemed to be at the point in the argument where Alli had to accuse Sav of trying to parent her.

"Alli, you're too young to really appreciate the gravity of the situation."

"Ok, since when are you Dad?"

They were going to be at it for a while; usually the parent card got thrown in roughly one third into the argument.

They probably wouldn't have even noticed that Drew had left.

"Sure, what's up?"

K.C. ushered Drew to a quieter area of the cafeteria, he could definitely feel people's stares following him. Nobody was looking at Sav or Alli anymore; whatever people were taking about had something to do specifically with Drew. What was going on?

He asked the very same question to K.C.

"What's going on?"

"Haven't you heard what Bianca DeSousa's telling everybody?"

Drew was more than a little confused; he had never even _spoken_ to Bianca DeSousa (and figured that if the rumors about her were true, then he was better off keeping it that way, even if she was insanely hot.) What would she be telling everybody that involved him?

K.C. continued.

"You know, about your… sibling?"

The word choice made Drew's stomach turn. Sibling. Not brother - _sibling_. Sibling was clumsy, sibling was deliberate, sibling meant-

Oh no – _that_. Anything but that.

"_Sibling_?" Drew repeated, the word sounded awful coming from his mouth; like something taboo and wrong; like he finally understood what people meant when they talked about a curse word.

"Yeah," K.C. said awkwardly. "About how your, uh, sibling was hitting on Bianca after class and Bianca pushed, uh, your sibling and felt… something."

Drew could feel his pulse vibrating in his head; the thudding sound was so deafening he was sure that other people could hear it.

K.C. awkwardly fixed his beanie.

"And then she ripped open, uh, your siblings shirt and…"

It started to feel like someone was smashing a hammer on the inside of Drew's skull. He could barely hear what K.C was saying anymore, but the last part of his explanation still managed to echo in Drew's already impossibly full head.

"So basically she's saying that… Adam's a girl."

The words didn't even sound like they came from K.C.'s mouth; rather from some large, booming speaker that took up the entire sky. Drew was pretty sure everyone in the cafeteria, everyone in the _school _even, heard those words.

He wasn't even sure how he managed to reply to K.C., or even if he's spoken loud enough for K.C. to hear him.

"Bianca told you that?" he heard himself say.

K.C. chewed on his lip, hesitant in responding.

"Well I heard it from Owen and Fitz, but-"

K.C. stopped himself, presumably because he saw the utter terror on Drew's face as he frantically scanned the cafeteria. He couldn't see Adam anywhere; he'd usually be the first person in a room where people fed him.

But what really made Drew feel ill was that Owen and Fitz were nowhere to be seen either.

Drew felt his breathing get heavier as it all started to sink in. People knew; they _knew_ about Adam.

And they had gone after him.

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_- Yes, Drew is a true child of divorce; he doesn't have a birthDAY, he has a birthMONTH. (And he calls it JanDrewary, because you just know that he would!)_

_- He's also not an Eclare shipper apparently (or aware that Italy were kinda sorta important during the war…)_

_- Big props must be given to ArentYouSophiaLoren-8887, who helped me to work out the chapter names for this week (and, consequently, gave me the idea for the title of the Thursday chapter...) Read her stuff, it's freakin' awesome! _

_- In the next chapter: Drew just… he just really sucks at fighting, doesn't he?_


	29. You Mess With the Bull

_Holy promos Batman! This chapter would have come sooner of it weren't for that pesky 3-minute promo sending the DTC in speculation overdrive! Sorry about that!_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "My Body is a Cage (1)"_

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Chapter 29 - You Mess With the Bull

Drew ran into the hallway, scanning around for any sign of a fight, or an argument, or any sign of commotion, knowing that if there was any sort of disturbance, that's where Adam was going to be.

He ran down the hallway and into the lobby - totally abandoned save for one person, alone on a bench under the staircase.

He was just sitting there.

He looked okay, he wasn't hurt; Drew must have found him before Owen and Fitz did.

That mean Drew was allowed to me mad at him.

"_Bianca_?" he said, storming up to Adam, "you _hit_ on _Bianca_?"

Adam just sat there, expression unchanged. Drew sat beside him, forcing his face to Adam; trying to get Adam to care enough to _look_ at him.

"Are you trying to get yourself _killed_?" Drew yelled, but he didn't sound particularly imposing, he wasn't as good at hiding his fear as Mom was.

Adam looked indifferent, which just made Drew even more livid; did he not realize how serious this was?

"It's not my fault her friends are ignoramuses," Adam said flatly. Drew wanted to shake him until he cared, until it sunk in how _stupid_ he had been.

"What did Mom say about staying under the radar?" he said, shoving Adam.

That's when Adam grabbed his shoulder, flinching violently in pain. Drew didn't find him before Owen and Fitz.

He wasn't okay.

"What did they do to you?" Drew asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. Owen wrapped Drew to a flag pole for being arrogant, Fitz humiliated Dave in front of everyone in the Dot for dancing with his friends; what they do to someone who was transgender?

"It's nothing-" Adam insisted, despite still gingerly holding into his shoulder.

But Drew didn't care. They knew; Owen and Fitz _knew_ that Adam was physically a girl and they hurt him anyway. As far as they knew they beat up a girl; Drew's sister.

Nobody beat up Drew's sister.

He stood up, but Adam stopped him.

"This isn't your battle," Adam said firmly. "I'll go to the LGBT club."

It was_ absolutely_ Drew's battle. People knew about Adam, and they were_ hurting_ him because of it. It wasn't as if Adam could defend himself – that was Drew's job.

"Why do you think _I_ transferred to Degrassi?"

Adam looked away from him, reclining back into the bench. His message was clear; he didn't want Drew there – he didn't _need_ Drew there.

Well he was wrong. And Drew was going to prove it.

"If anyone hurts my sister I'll-"

Adam sat back up again, glaring at Drew so intently he was sure that the force of it could somehow send Drew flying across to the other side of the room. Even Mom couldn't glare as aggressively as that.

"Sorry, you know what I mean," he said quickly before it could become an issue; Drew had bigger issues to deal with.

"I'm gonna make sure that they don't touch you again."

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Drew found Owen and Fitz just where he had expected them to be; being idiots in the parking lot throwing a dumb football back and fourth like nothing terrible had just happened. He could hear Adam following behind him, yelling at him to let it go, but Drew wasn't particularly interested in what he had to say.

He was going to make them hurt.

"Hey!" he yelled, "I heard you were messing with my brother."

Neither of them even bothered to turn around until he said "brother." Fitz seemed more amused than anything else.

"Last time we checked you had a sister," he leered, walking straight up to Drew's face.

Drew shoved him, but Fitz didn't seem too bothered. He may even have been laughing.

He wasn't going to be laughing for much longer.

"Shut up!" Drew growled. "You don't know anything."

Fitz shoved back Drew lazily, as if Drew wasn't even worth his time.

"Defensive," Fitz said mockingly. "You hiding a secret too?"

Drew charged at him, but Adam grabbed him and held him back; he didn't want Drew's help.

"Come on," he pleaded. "Let's just go."

Adam started to walk away even before Drew could decide what to do. He begrudgingly followed; he's rather that Adam wasn't alone, even if he desperately wanted to smash Fitz's teeth in.

Bit Fitz wasn't done.

"Run along now ladies," he sang. "Freak show's waiting."

Before Drew even knew what he was doing, Fitz was on the ground. He was about to kick him in the stomach (cheap move, but he didn't care – he hated the "f" word) when he heard Adam's voice.

"No, let's just go!"

Owen had grabbed Adam, laughing as Adam tried helplessly to pull away.

No. Nobody touched Adam. Ever.

Drew ran over to Owen and tried to pull Adam off him. He couldn't even think straight he was that angry. They were laughing; they thought it was funny.

"Shouldn't have done that."

Fitz had gotten up whilst Drew was distracted by Owen. Drew wasn't sure if he was supposed to take out Fitz or get Adam away from Owen. He stood there stupidly as Owen grabbed a protesting Adam again. Fitz sauntered up to Drew, fist clenched.

Drew felt the punch before he saw it, he pain radiating through his whole face. He could feel himself stumble and could faintly hear Adam's voice.

"Let go!"

Drew tried to shake himself out of his daze and threw the hardest punch he could towards Fitz, who seemed to dodge it with lightning speed. Drew tried again and again to hit him, but Fitz was just too fast, or maybe Drew was just too dazed and slow, he couldn't be sure. Fitz managed to get Drew against the parking lot fence and struck him in the ribs, knocking all the wind out of him. Fitz didn't stop. He kept throwing punches at Drew until he whole body ached. The blur of Fitz's arms swinging was the only thing letting Drew know that he was still hitting him; he had already maxed-out his pain limit. Fitz threw a final blow at Drew's eye and the whole world became dark and fuzzy.

Drew felt himself fall to the ground, his body going completely limp as the pain truly set in. He could sense the faint metallic taste of blood in his mouth and the vague outlines of Fitz and Owen as the walked away. He tried not to breathe; it hurt too much to breathe.

Adam came into his focus, kneeling down beside him. He felt Adam's hand resting on his leg, which didn't seem to hurt too much anymore.

"Are you ok?"

Drew lifted his aching head enough so that he could look at Adam; he was looking around helplessly. Drew could see people moving out of his focus, but nobody seemed to be doing anything.

"Should I get a teacher?" a girl's voice cried out.

Adam stared at Drew, who tried to feebly shake his head, but just didn't have the strength to commit to it. Nobody else in the world would have been able to read such a tiny sign. But Adam could.

"No, it's fine," Adam said, turning back to the blur that was apparently a crowd of students. Drew could see the blur start to move away, leaving him alone with Adam. He wasn't sure what Adam would be able to do to help, not unless he happened to have a stretcher and a large quantity of vicodin hidden away somewhere. But he absolutely did not expect Adam to do what he did next.

"Your eye…"

Adam reached his hand out and gently touched the area around Drew's eye where Fitz had thrown his final punch. Drew didn't even flinch at it, it was so unexpected. It should have hurt, it _did_ hurt, but at the same time it didn't. It felt oddly comforting. Drew realized that it was the first time that Adam had initiated any real sort of contact in months. He could feel his eyes watering – from the pain of course.

Adam shook his head sharply, staring at his hand as if he had only just realized what he was doing, he snatched at away as if he had touch something burning hot and looked around nervously as he tried to compose his thoughts.

"Uh," he started to say gruffly. "Do you need a hand getting up?"

"No," Drew grunted as he tried to push himself off the ground, but his ribs hurt too much. "Yes."

Adam got onto his feet and pulled Drew up to his own. The blurriness he felt was slowly becoming replaced with sharp, acute pain; mostly by his eye. He could start seeing people previously outside of his field of vision were standing and staring at them, some even had their phones out, presumably to take pictures with. It took Drew back to that horrible day on the flagpole, only this was so much worse.

They had to find somewhere quieter, somewhere away from everyone's preying eyes. Somewhere Drew could check that how badly Adam was actually hurt and where he could fix his own injuries.

"Come with me," he ordered, dragging himself back towards the school as Adam followed.

The lobby was still abandoned, the quiet before the storm as it would happen. As soon as Drew walked into the main hallway the gawking started.

"_-Bianca DeSousa ripped his shirt open in the hall-"_

"_-She's been trying to spy on the boys in the locker room-"_

"_-Why would they even let someone like that come to our school?"_

Drew kept his head down and tried to get Adam away from all the people as quickly as possible. He headed for the washroom, hoping it would be quiet and that he could run some cold water on his eye. But when he got there, he knew that his plan wasn't going to work.

One of the janitors was blocking the door directly across from the boy's washroom. The glass from the door panel had been shattered and the shards were being swept away. Drew looked over to Adam, who had tensed up at the sight of it. Drew wasn't that stupid; it didn't take a genius to work out what had happened.

"Is that what they did?" he asked in a small voice.

Adam didn't respond; he didn't have to, his face said it all.

The pain Drew had been feeling had turned into anger; _they threw him through a door_. He wanted to kill them, to humiliate them, to make them see how it felt to be terrorized.

He started charging back towards the direction of the lobby, hoping he could hunt down Fitz and Owen before lunch was over, but Adam stood infront of him.

"Move Adam," he ordered. "I'm going to find them-"

"Why?" Adam asked hotly. "So they can beat you up again?"

Drew clenched his jaw, sending further jolts of pain to his eye. He knew it would be pointless to try and fight them again, but it didn't take away from the fact that he really, _really_ wanted to.

But he mostly wanted Adam to be safe from everyone's judgmental stares.

Drew relented and walked away from the smashed-up door and headed further down the hallway with his smashed-up brother. More people were pointing and whispering, Drew wondered if there was a way to get all their names so that he could make them pay one-by-one.

"Hey freak!" a junior boy yelled. "Catch this!"

He threw a wet ball of toilet paper at Adam, but it missed, landing on the wall behind him.

Drew's first instinct was to run over and shove the guys head into a locker, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to successfully fight anyone for a while. Instead, he tried to put his arm around his little brother; tried to shield him from all the people looking at him; to protect him from the world. But Adam pushed him away.

"Don't," he hissed at Drew, sinking his head down.

Drew felt winded again, almost as bad as when Fitz had punched him, but couldn't afford to dwell on it; he had to figure out where else they could go.

Drew could only think of one other place.

"C'mon," Drew muttered, grabbing Adam's good arm and pulling him towards Coach Armstrong's office.

"I can walk by myself you know," Adam hissed, shaking himself free from Drew's grip, but staying close behind as Drew forced himself through the gawking audience.

The P.E. department was all but abandoned and provided a welcome relief from the pointing crowds that seemed to occupy the rest of the school.

"Stay here," Drew ordered Adam, pointing to the floor at the corner of Armstrong's office.

Adam silently complied and Drew walked over to the office door to find Armstrong getting ready to leave. Drew knocked on the already open door.

"Uh, coach?" he asked as Armstrong scooped up a stack of papers in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Sorry Drew, I'm just on my way out," Armstrong said. "I've got a double AP math class to prepare for this afternoon-"

"I just need to grab something from the team's locker room," Drew insisted. "I'll be quick."

Armstrong nodded his head over to the direction of the row of keys hanging on the wall to his right.

"It's the second one in from the left," he said. "Just be quick and put it back when you're done."

Drew nodded and watched as Armstrong rushed down the hall.

"Remember to lock up behind you," he added before disappearing through the double doors into the main school building.

"Let's go," he said, turning back to Adam and taking him into the team locker room.

"This is… surprisingly tidy," Adam said looking around at the carefully folded uniforms at everyone's stations.

"Yeah, Armstrong's pretty strict about keeping the change room clean," Drew said as the rummaged around for a first aid kit; he was sure he had seen one in there before.

"You're sure that nobody's gonna come in here?" Adam asked nervously. As Drew turned around to face him he could see why; Adam was starting at the station labeled "O. Milligan."

"Only the football team come in here, and I have the only key," Drew assured him. "Besides, you heard Armstrong, he has class all afternoon – no one else knows we're here. We can probably lay low in here until school ends."

"But we'll miss class-"

"You really want to go to class today?" Drew asked dully. "Really?"

"No, not really," Adam muttered before sitting himself down on the defense bench.

"Are you _deliberately_acting stupid today?" Drew asked, giving up his search for the first aid kit. "First you hit on Bianca DeSousa-"

"-I was just talking to her-"

"-Then you stroll into the guy's bathroom like nothing's happened-"

"-Well what do you expect me to do? Adam asked irately.

"-I expect you to use at least a little common sense," Drew shouted. "You're supposed to be the smart one! Well now you have goons like Fitz on your back-"

"It's not like I haven't had to deal with Fitz before!" Adam retorted.

Drew didn't say anything for a moment. He didn't know anything about Fitz and Adam; it seemed like the kind of thing that Adam would as least tell him about. He was starting to wonder what other things Adam was keeping from him.

"What do you mean?"

"He's kind of enemies with Eli," Adam explained. "Which I guess means he's kind of enemies with _me_. He pushed me against the lockers once and tried to punch me in the face."

"Tried?" Drew echoed.

"Well Eli stopped him," Adam said. "He threw himself infront of me and grabbed Fitz's fist before it could break my face."

Drew could feel his own face throbbing in pain, reminding him that he had completely failed to save Adam from the very same thing that Eli had apparently managed to.

No wonder Adam liked Ghoulsworthy better.

"I told them by the way," Adam said, smiling feebly. "Eli and Clare. They were cool."

"_Great_," Drew grumbled. "So that brings the list of people in this school who don't want to kill you to what - three? That's quite some army you've got there."

"Shouldn't you be pacing," Adam glowered. "Isn't that what do you when you're annoyed at everyone?"

"I'm not annoyed at you, I'm just-" Drew started, but stopped so that he could, in fact, pace. He was annoyed, he was _very_ annoyed, but he figured that Adam was probably already having a bad enough day as it was without Drew fighting him too.

He sat beside Adam on the defense bench. He never sat on the defense bench before. It made a nice change from the offense.

"How's your shoulder?" he asked.

"It's fine," Adam murmured. "How's your… everything?"

"I think we're both gonna live," Drew laughed.

"Really?" Adam said quietly, and far too genuinely for Drew's liking. He shuffled close to Adam and moved to put his arm around him.

Adam pushed away. Again.

"My shoulder's not _that _fine," he said, anxiously moving further away from Drew.

"Oh," Drew whispered, trying not to sound as dejected as he felt. "Sorry."

They both stared at the spotless for a while, neither making a sound. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, but neither of them made an effort to move. Drew listened as people walked past the door to the team's locker room on their way to the general ones down the hall. They were all talking and laughing, not having a single care in the world. Drew never wanted to get up and start screaming at people so much in his entire life, but the unrelenting throbbing of his eye told him that this would be an unwise thing to do.

Adam was still starting at the floor, his head bowed so low he almost looked as if he were praying. Maybe he was, though Drew doubted it; Adam didn't have much belief in a creator, claiming that if there was one, he had a pretty sick sense of humor. He must have sensed Drew watching him as he lifted his head up and looked over to him.

"Do you remember Al Capone?" Adam asked. "The game I mean, not the person."

"Uh, yeah," Drew replied, confused at what Adam was getting at.

"I think you must have heard about him school and picked up the story wrong," Adam continued softly. "Why else would we need to save the world from the Eliot Ness Monster?"

Drew laughed. It hurt his ribs quite a bit, but he stayed smiling anyway.

"I was Al, and you were Capone," Drew remembered. "You're right, I think I did pick it up just a _little_ bit wrong."

"And we stole the cup holder tree things from the kitchen to use as tommy guns," Adam added. "And Dad let us wear some of his suit jackets and they were _way_too big."

"Yeah," Drew sighed, still laughing. "What's Al Capone got to do with anything though?"

Adam tried to shrug, cringed at the pain and instead shook his head.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I just wanted to talk about something nice. That's all."

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_- I have an Adam POV story on the backburner called "Hypothesis", which details exactly what kind of things Adam has been keeping from Drew (it might be a while before it's published here though – I've been slowly chipping away at it for ages!)_

- Story time: When I was three there was a giraffe slide I used to frequent when I visited my aunt's house. It was surrounded by sand, and that always interested me more than the slide did. One day an older boy threw the sand in my eyes and made me cry, so my big sister made him eat a handful of the stuff. Looking back there was probably dog poop in it. Regardless, my sister was, and still is, awesome!

_In the next chapter: Mrs. Torres makes a new enemy._


	30. Comfort

_Gah, all these little previews and teases. Season 12 can't get here soon enough! _

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Chapter 30 - Comfort

"What happened to your eye?"

Sitting in the backseat of the car didn't seem to fool Mom at all as she twisted herself over to fuss over Drew's face.

"Just a rough practice," Drew lied. "That's all."

"Well that's unacceptable," Mom shrieked, before turning to Adam. "Have you seen this?"

"Yeah, I've- _ah_" Adam started to say, turning himself around to look at Drew, but he stopped and recoiled painfully back into his seat halfway.

Mom set her targets to Adam's shoulder.

"Did you have a rough practice too?" She asked dryly.

Both Drew and Adam stayed quiet.

"Why are you out of school so early?" Mom asked, her voice dangerously low. "School doesn't end for another five minutes, how did you both get out before then?"

"Can we just go home," Adam begged quietly. "Please?"

"No, we can't just go home!" Mom yelled. "I want to know what's going on right now!"

"Mom, it doesn't matter," Drew insisted. "We can talk about it later-"

"-We're not going anywhere until you tell me what's happened."

Mom's shouting was punctuated by the bell ringing, followed immediately by people bursting through the front doors.

"Hey," said a senior boy, pointing at the car gleefully. "Look who it is!"

Adam cringed and sank so far down on his seat that his head was below the window.

"_Ow_," he whispered. Mom's eyes darted from Adam to Drew, her face flooded with panic.

"Is this about-" she said shakily.

"Remember I said we were ballroom dancing in gym class?" Adam said, still sinking even further into his seat until he was practically sitting on the floor. "I got a little too close to my partner."

Mom's whole body sank back into the seat.

"Who knows?" she asked Drew.

Drew felt himself sigh.

"Everyone."

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**.**

They were welcomed home by the shrill bleeping of the answering machine.

Eleven new messages - Mom couldn't have been out of the house much more than an hour. She seemed hesitant to press the play button; Drew didn't really want her to press it either.

_"You have Eleven new messages. Message one."_

There was nothing but faint static for a good five seconds before the giggling started.

"Here, you say something," the first voice (a teenaged boy Drew couldn't identify) whispered.

"No way dude, _you_ go," the second voice (also an unidentifiable teenaged boy) whispered back.

There was more laughter and some hushing before one of them (possibly the first one) cleared his throat.

"Uh," he started, clearly trying to suppress more mirth. "Hey."

Nothing else was said as they both erupted into fits of laughter.

"Oh, for heaven's sake."

They were cut off mid-laugh as Mom deleted the message before moving to the next one.

"_Message two._"

A woman sighed and cleared her throat.

"Hello, we've never met, but my name is Helen Edwards. I'm chair of the Danforth Church committee, my daughter goes to school with your, well, _children_. I'm calling to voice my concerns regarding your da-"

Mom slammed the stop button much harder than she needed to before pressing both hands on top of her head, her eyes screwed shut.

"Go to your rooms," she said, her voice shaky and quiet and so far detached from

what she usually sounded like that it scared Drew a little. "I need... I need to listen to these messages, and then I have some phone calls to make and I need you both to just... go."

She pulled her hands down over her face. Drew nodded and pulled Adam up the stairs before he could see Mom do something so much worse than yelling. He was getting pretty sick of having to drag Adam everywhere, but since Adam was being infuriatingly unresponsive he didn't really have any other choice.

"C'mon," he said, taking Adam into the bathroom so that they both could finally get some much needed repairs. He sat Adam down on the laundry hamper by the sink and started to run a washcloth under the cold water. It wasn't as good as an ice pack, but Mom was in the hallway on the phone, blocking the entrance to the kitchen, so it would have to do. He was pretty sure pressing the cold cloth to his face actually made it hurt _more_, but kept it there anyway, expecting it to start feeling good at some point. Until then, he'd need a little help.

"Get my aspirin," he said to Adam, pointing to the cupboard under the sink. "Take two and get two for me. I know you know where it is."

Adam pushed himself off the hamper and opened the cupboard as Drew stole his seat.

"Sorry, didn't realize it was yours," Adam said in a monotone voice. "I just needed some because-"

Drew stood up before Adam could finish.

"You know what?" he snapped. "I don't need to know. I don't need to know about any more of your problems - my whole stupid _life_ revolves around you and your weird problems."

Adam stood back up, pushing the box in aspirin into Drew's free hand. It was the most lively he had acted since the fight, like he was actually starting to get that the whole thing was deadly serious. But Drew was beyond caring that Adam "got it"; he still didn't seem to realize how dangerous his life was going to be; and over something as stupid as _clothes_. Adam took a few deep breaths before responding.

"I _told _you I didn't want to you fight-"

"It's not the fight Adam, it's _everything_!" Drew yelled. He felt his whole body suddenly wake up, as if it had been asleep for a long time and had to release all the unused energy somehow. "You realize that Mom is probably crying right now right? Everyone at school will know by now and they're going to make our lives hell - again!"

Adam wouldn't look at him; it really did seem like he didn't care. He didn't care about everything Drew had sacrificed for him. He moved for him, he covered for him, he _took a beating_ for him. And Adam wouldn't even _look_ at him.

"And for what?" Drew asked, pushing himself as close as he could get to Adam's face, forcing Adam to look at him. "Life just wasn't this hard before, it just _wasn't_. And is it really worth it? Really? I mean just face it Adam, you are _never_ going to-"

Drew stopped himself, forcing the conversation to and end by slowly washing down the aspirin Adam had given him. Adam didn't say anything back; he had used up all his fight for one day. And so had Drew.

Adam, apparently trying to find something to look at other than Drew, took his phone out of his pocket and pulled a face as he stared at the screen.

"Twenty-six missed calls?" he muttered as he started bashing the buttons on his phone. He looked up and stared at the wall (the one furthest away from Drew). "I haven't seen Eli and Clare since this morning – they'll be worried."

He moved to the door, ignoring Drew on the way past.

"I should call them," he said as he opened the door. He turned as if to look over at Drew, but didn't quite meet his eye. "I should…"

He trailed off then left for his bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind him and leaving Drew alone as he plunged his washcloth back into the water to make it cold again. He needed to take his mind off things. He pulled his own phone out of his pocket and checked it.

Two missed calls and five new messages; all from Alli.

He dialed her number and waited for her to pick up.

"Drew?" she said instantly, sounding panicked. "Are you alright? Is Adam-"

"Everyone's fine," he lied, catching a glimpse of his purpling eye in the mirror. "Just got into a run in with Fitz and Owen. Nothing I can't handle."

He heard Alli sigh and mutter something totally indecipherable, but it at least sounded like relief.

"You know the whole school is talking right?" she said in an unusually high voice. "I've never seen Facerange so busy. The Anti-Grapevine _crashed_! Nobody seems to have the same story though."

Drew could feel his eye throb again as he tried to imagine how badly people's wires had gotten tangled. The situation was difficult enough to understand as it was before the rumor mill got involved.

"So…" Alli started hesitantly. "What _is_ the story?"

Drew sat down on the bathroom floor, his back resting against the wall. He could feel the frustration and exhaustion kicking in already, knowing that as long as his day had been, it wasn't anywhere near over again yet.

He repeated his story again, although, admittedly, he gave Alli more detail than he had given to Mom on the drive home (mostly because he had to; Alli didn't even have conformation of whether or not Adam being trans was just one of many rumors) and waited for what he expected would be a lengthy response.

But Alli was totally silent. Drew had never experienced Alli being speechless before, unless he counted the times she was giving him the cold shoulder, but even then, she would at least make a witty remark before storming off.

"So… yeah," he said after the silence started to become horrible. "That's it."

Even more silence followed; Drew started to wonder if maybe Alli had been cut-off somehow. He started to considered hanging up and calling her back when he heard her voice on the other side of the phone, flustering as she tried to figure out what to say.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

Drew pushed the facecloth back to his eye again.

"My face hurts a little, but I've had worse-"

"No," Alli said, "how do you _feel_?"

This time it was Drew who was causing the silence. He didn't really know what he felt. If he thought about it he felt lots of things; he was hopelessly tired but so painfully awake at the same time, he was worried about Mom breaking down, He was worried about his family falling apart, he was worried about what was going to happen at school, he was debating whether or not he should be go Facerange and see what everyone was saying himself (but was pretty sure if would do absolutely nothing to make him feel better), he was angry at Adam and at the same time so insanely terrified for him. He felt so many things that it felt like he couldn't convey any sort of genuine feeling at all. And he felt like that all the time. And it was so exhausting but he couldn't do anything about it. And it was so frustrating that he wanted to punch something-

"_Drew?" _

He could faintly hear Alli's voice. He hadn't even noticed that he had laid his hand, and his phone, down on the floor. He lifted the phone back up to his ear; it felt impossibly heavy.

"I feel fine."

.

oOo

.

Mom called Drew and Adam back downstairs sometime after seven; she was sitting at the dining room table, still clutching the phone in her hand. It wasn't until Drew sat down across from her that he realized that he hadn't eating anything since breakfast. Not that he was particularly hungry.

"Did they really throw you through a door?" she asked, staring desperately as Adam.

Adam stared at the table and nodded.

"It's nothing though," he mumbled.

"Well your principal doesn't seem to think it's nothing," Mom said, her voice finally sounding stronger and more Mom-like. "He's been _flooded_ with calls, he knows who did it. The two boys were_ bragging_ about it – bragging about throwing someone against a door so hard that the glass broke!"

Mom slammed the phone down on the table (between that and the way she violently shut off the answering machine, Drew was wondering if they would need to buy a new phone).

"I don't think they meant for the glass to break," Adam said quietly.

"Wait," Drew said, grabbing Adam's shoulder to turn him around. Adam tensed up in pain at the action. "Sorry. You're actually _defending_ them?"

"They're idiots," Adam said. He looked as if he was trying to shrug, but apparently his shoulder was too busted to do so. "They probably thought it was funny. I mean, it wasn't, but-"

"You've got to be kidding me," Drew yelled. "You've got to stop trying to see the good in everybody. Some people are just _bad_; they don't deserve excuses."

"Drew's right," Mom joined in. "There's no way I'm going to let you go to school with people like that. Principal Simpson and I have discussed expulsion, he seems a little hesitant, but he'll come around after we've spoken to him tomorrow-"

"You're going to see the principal again?" Adam groaned. "Mom, really it's not that bad-"

"Don't tell me that this isn't bad," Mom yelled. "Dad thinks we have a case for a hate crime, we're going to discuss it when he comes back tomorrow-"

"Legal action?" Adam sighed. "You're over-exaggerating-"

"-You're _under_-exaggerating," Mom cut in before stopping herself and taking a deep breath in. "Please can we not fight about this? I'm tired, I'm upset - _you're_ upset. We haven't even had dinner yet."

"I'm not hungry," Adam said.

"Me neither," Drew added.

"No," Mom finished. "I'm not either. At least we agree on _something_."

She smiled faintly, absentmindedly playing with the phone on the table.

"Okay," she whispered, leaning closer into the table. "Just wait until I tell you how much of a _cow_ that Helen Edwards woman is."

.

oOo

.

It was barely past nine when Drew started getting ready for bed, but it was dark, and he was tired and he really wanted the day to end already.

The house had gone eerily quiet; Drew wasn't the only one who surrendered to bed so early. Drew could hear every little noise; the creaking floorboards as someone moved; the tapping sounds of a keyboard as Mom worked away on the laptop; Adam gasping in pain.

The last one was the one that grabbed Drew's attention. He crawled onto his bed and pressed the ear on his good side to the wall separating his room from Adam's. He would have passed it off as Adam moving in an awkward way and hurting his shoulder, but the sharp intakes of breath kept coming, as if the pain was pain inflicted over and over again – almost as if it was being done on purpose.

Drew could think of only one thing that would be causing that kind of regular pain.

He jumped off the bed and burst into Adam's room without knocking; Adam could hide the evidence if Drew knocked.

But there was no evidence to hide. Adam wasn't burning.

He was standing in total darkness, struggling to pull his arm out of the sleeve of his shirt.

Drew stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, shutting out the room's only source of light. Drew could only just make out Adam's face, looking weary and anxious and _older. _He actually looked his age for once and it made Drew nervous; he always told himself that he was so much older than Adam, but he really wasn't. He was just as much of a kid as Adam was. He was so hopelessly out of his depth.

"It's dark," Drew noted redundantly.

"Yeah, it's nighttime," Adam deadpanned.

"Well, duh," Drew joked. "But do you usually get dressed in the da-"

He stopped himself before he could finish when he realized that yes, Adam probably _did_ always get dressed in the dark.

"Well you're gonna be there a long time if nobody gives you a hand," he said quickly, walking over to Adam. "Here, let me."

Adam looked resistant at first, but relented when he too seemed to realize that he wasn't going to get very far on his own.

"Fine," he mumbled.

Drew pulled Adam's shoulder free of the sleeve, but stopped when he saw just how bruised and battered it was; even in the dark he could see how violently black and blue Adam was. It made Drew's back eye look like a mild slap to the face.

"It's cool," Adam insisted, "I heal really quickly – I'm basically Wolverine."

Drew didn't laugh. He didn't find any of it funny. He pulled the rest of Adam's arm out of the sleeve, wanting it over as quickly as possible. But Drew was met with another unpleasant surprise as he held into Adam's bare forearm.

The scars that riddled Adam's arms were still raised, even though it had been months since Adam had burned himself (or, at least that's what Adam had insisted, but Adam seemed to be keeping a lot of things from Drew.) Drew remembered exactly how those scars had gotten there and felt queasy at the very thought of it. He let go, trying desperately to stop thinking about it.

"Sorry," he said in a tight voice. "Does that hurt?"

"No," Adam mumbled. "They don't hurt anymore. They're just… there."

Drew quickly freed Adam's other arm, the one that wasn't covered in bruises and scars, and was ready to let Adam go to bed when he realized another problem.

The bandages.

There was no way Adam would be able to twist around to unwrap them himself. And it was hardly as if he could go to sleep like that.

"Okay, I got this."

Adam said nothing; he didn't move an inch as Drew carefully untwisted the bandages around his brother's chest. He just stood, like a mannequin; frozen and lifeless. Drew tried his hardest not to look at Adam's face, fearing whatever expression might be there. Instead Drew focused on the desk behind Adam. Sitting by the laptop was Mr. Koala, his shiny plastic eyes pointed straight at Drew. He wondered for a bizarre moment if Mr. Koala was somehow _watching_ him, but pushed the ridiculous notion out of his head; it was just a toy. But even still, the "staring" made him feel strangely uncomfortable so he moved his gaze back to Adam. Although as soon as he did, he wished he hadn't.

Adam looked as if he were either wanted to burst into tears or punch something. Drew wouldn't have blamed him for doing either; he'd even offer his own face if need be. It wasn't like he could be in any _more_ pain.

"All done," he said cheerfully. He had the strange urge to pat Adam on the head, maybe even give him a lollipop.

Adam crossed his arms tightly across his torso, looking down at the floor. Drew was so sure that he was going to cry and he hated that he couldn't do anything so stop it; to make it all better.

"It's okay," he said gently, moving in to hug Adam.

Adam didn't just push him away that time; he forcefully _shoved_ Drew across the room.

"Just…" Adam whispered, swallowing the approaching tears down. "Just don't okay?"

It didn't hurt, at least not physically, but that push, that _final_ push, is what stung the most out of everything that had happened that day. He had lost Adam.

"You should go," Adam said shakily. "It's late. It's too late to do anything."

Drew tried to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat; curling themselves into a lump that he just couldn't swallow.

He nodded and walked back into the harsh light of the hallway, leaving Adam swallowed up in the darkness.

.

oOo

.

Drew turned off the lights in his own room; they seemed too harsh somehow. He sat on his bed, head slumped against the wall. He was so tired, but he knew that there was no way he was going to get to sleep; his head was too full; his face hurt too much; he had messed up too badly.

Part of him wanted to go back to Adam and apologise for yelling at him in the bathroom whilst another part of him never wanted to bring it up ever again. He sat replaying the conversation in his head over and over again, it sounded worse every time he played it, but couldn't he couldn't stop himself. It was like his own brain was punishing him.

_"Is it really worth it? Really? I mean just face it Adam, you are never going to-"_

Drew would be forever grateful that he never finished that sentence. He had gotten a lot off his chest, and yet it felt so much heavier than it had before he said anything. He looked down, half expecting to see some sort of weight hanging around him but was surprised to find something else instead.

He was still holding Adam's shirt and bandages; unconsciously clutching them to his chest like some sort of security blanket.

He held onto them even closer, embracing them as though there were an actual person inside of them instead of just lifeless clothes. The _felt_ like Adam; they had that warm, soft scruffiness that Drew always associated with him. It made sense – they _were_ Adam's clothes.

He would probably be looking for them.

Drew pushed himself off the bed and tiptoed to Adam's room; trying not to wake Mom. He quietly opened the door, finding Adam's room to be as dark as it was before, and Adam curled up in his bed, fast asleep. He had always slept like that, even as a kid; all curled up in a tight ball. It used to remind Drew of a cat, all cozy and content. Now it just looked like someone trying to shield themselves from a beating.

He had the overwhelming desire to crawl under the covers, build a fort with Adam and never leave. Nobody else would be allowed to enter the fort (Mom would be allowed to send them food, but she wouldn't actually be allowed _in_) and they could both just stay there, hidden from the rest of the world, forever.

No, better than that, they could just run away, just the two of them. Go to somewhere new like Anchorage or Montreal (Drew's French wasn't all that great, but they could manage) or maybe somewhere warm; he quite liked the idea of somewhere warm. They wouldn't have to go to school, or clean their rooms or deal with jerks like Fitz and Owen. They wouldn't have to deal with anyone's stupid expectations; they would just accept each other and get on with things. He could write to Alli he supposed, but he wouldn't really blame her if she wanted to move on. They'd find a way to get by; they could get their own apartment and play video games all night and sleep all day. They could get fake _moustaches_; that would be cool, especially since neither of them could actually _grow_ moustaches themselves.

And it would just be the two of them; looking out for each other. Like it used to be.

Adam groaned as he turned in his sleep. It shook Drew out of his childish fantasy and back into the darkness of the bedroom. They couldn't run away from their problems; Adam lived in a suit made out of his problems. And he could never take it off. Ever.

Drew carefully folded up the shirt and bandages and placed them by the bedside table, hoping that Adam would notice them in the morning. Drew noticed something else sitting there.

Mr. Koala had been moved from the desk and was sitting on the bedside table, watching Adam sleep.

.

oOo

.

_- Adam didn't move Mr. Koala. Mr. Koala has magic powers. True story._

_- There should be a Misfits parent's dinner. It would be nothing short of amazing! (You just know that someone would get bitch-slapped by the end of the evening. Probably Helen. By Audra.) _

_- Adam is worryingly forgiving of people's faults. He befriends Fitz despite Eli's warnings, he's happy to cosy up with Fiona even though he thinks she drank because of him, he still tries to get Dave on his side after he trans-bashes him on the radio. Stop it Adam – you don't have to be friends with everyone! (I mean, I get it, he craves acceptance, but some people don't deserve your friendship dude.)_

_In the next chapter: Adam gets his own private teacher-lady-bodyguard. It's not as awesome as it sounds._


	31. Red Wednesday

_- Monday's just around the corner guys, are you as stoked as I am?_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "My Body is a Cage (2)"_

.

oOo

.

Chapter 31 - Red Wednesday

"Are you ready for this?"

"No."

Mom rolled her eyes.

"Well we're going in now anyway, so _be_ ready."

Mom walked briskly to the reception and announced herself whilst Drew and Adam dragged behind her.

Simpson met them at reception, looking much more prepared than he was last time he had to deal with Mom.

"Mrs. Torres," he said, shaking her hand. "Adam. Drew. Would you come with me?"

"Actually, Mr. Simpson," Mom cut in. "I'd prefer to talk to you alone first."

Simpson swallowed, but composed himself quickly.

"Absolutely," he said, nodding. "Uh, boys if you want to sit outside-"

He took Mom into his office and Drew and Adam simultaneously collapsed onto the chairs outside. Drew listened to the silence in the abandoned early-morning halls, wondering if he'd be able to hear the football practice he was missing if he listened hard enough.

"Sorry you had to miss practice for this," Adam muttered. "I know you keep getting sucked into my problems."

Drew felt a slight twinge of guilt; a residual pang caused by his outburst the evening before. He shouldn't have told Adam that he was sick of his problems; he was supposed to be the one who _solved_ them. He was just at the end of his tether; he was tired and frustrated and Mom was probably crying and it just came out. It didn't change the fact that he still said it though.

"Don't be such a martyr," Drew sighed. "I'm supposed to help you out; that's my job."

Adam didn't look up, instead choosing to focus on anxiously twisting his thumbs.

"But it shouldn't have to be," he said quietly. "If it weren't for me you'd still have a normal life-"

"Hey-hey," Drew said, ready to put his hand on Adam's shoulder, but talking himself out of it, fearing a repeat of the day before. "I'm Drew Torres, remember? I've always been at the center of trouble. I gave half the girls in my 8th grade class glandular fever-"

"-You gave _me_ glandular fever too-"

"-Well that's when happens when you steal my apple juice," Drew added. "And we got six weeks off school, so really I'm awesome!"

Adam grinned, causing most of Drew's guilt to disappear. He _knew_ Adam would forgive him; that's what Adam did - he would always forgive, and every so often that wasn't such a bad thing.

"From now on we have each other's backs, ok?" Drew offered. "If you're in trouble, you tell me and I'll back you up."

"And I'll back _you _up?" Adam asked.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Drew said hesitantly, convinced that Adam didn't understand Drew's words the way he meant them. "Like, you can help me with homework and stuff."

"I do that anyway," Adam scoffed.

"Yeah, but you can _keep_ helping me."

The door to Simpson's office swung open and the principal himself stuck his head out.

"You can come in now."

Drew pushed himself off the chair and walked into Simpson's office, Adam following closely behind. They took the seats either side of Mom.

"So," Simpson began, "we've had a discussion and I want you to know that the school is taking the matter very seriously."

"Whatever my mom told you, it's _not_ that bad," Adam insisted.

Simpson turned to stare at Drew, specifically his black eye, and sighed.

"What happened to you eye?"

"Football in the face, sir," Drew responded, grinning. The grinning was a mistake and hurt like hell, but Drew wasn't going to let Simpson know that.

Mom sat up, businesslike, but without her usual fierceness. She was being decidedly calm about the whole thing, which Drew found sort of amazing considering the reason they were all sitting there.

"Now that students know Adam's… a girl, I think he needs to transfer schools immediately."

"What?" Adam yelled indignantly. "Mom we came to Degrassi so I could start over, I'm not doing it again!"

Mom didn't really appear to be listening.

"Do you know what happens to trans kids in high schools?" she said, clearly ready to begin a lengthy speech.

"Enlighten us…" Adam groaned.

"Harassment," Mom started, "assault, bullying, or worse; death threats Grace."

Adam shot Mom the look; the one that _she_ usually used when trying to show people how annoyed she was.

"Adam," she quickly corrected.

"Mom stop being so dramatic," Adam retorted.

"This isn't _me_," Mom asserted, "these are the _facts."_

Simpson, not as accustomed to this sort of arguing as Drew was, darted back and fourth between the two of them in bewilderment before finally deciding to cut in.

"We understand your concern Mrs. Torres," he said firmly. "But I don't think your son needs to change schools."

The Tilt came out; Mom meant business.

"Really?" she said flatly. "And the boys who harassed him?"

"Fitz and Owen have been suspended and we're taking a number of precautions to ensure your son's safety here," Simpson said assertively.

Adam pushed himself forward, a hesitant look across his face.

"Like what?"

Simpson stared apologetically at Adam for a long time before replying; he obviously _knew_ that Adam wasn't going to like what he heard.

"An adult will accompany you from class-to-class," Simpson informed him. "And you'll have to use a different washroom."

"Well I'm not using the girls," Adam said in an almost pained voice. Drew wanted to say something helpful, but couldn't come up with anything. He wasn't even sure why he was needed at the meeting; he just sat there looking stupid.

"You're not," Simpson promised, sighing as he produced a key from his desk drawer; a conspicuously large wheelchair key ring was hanging from it.

"The handicap washroom?" Adam whispered, slowly sinking into his chair.

"Special needs," Simpson said lightly, apparently thinking that that was somehow better.

Adam sighed, looking completely defeated.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Drew sat there ineffectually, trying to work out what he could do to make all of the misery go away; how to give Adam even just the smallest of wins.

"I can watch Adam in the washroom," he offered, causing every single person in the room the glare at him. Adam very quickly grabbed the key off the table; it was apparently his way of turning down Drew's offer.

"Sorry," Drew mumbled. "That didn't sound so weird in my head."

He kept his mouth shut for the rest of the meeting, knowing that he was for too stupid to be able to contribute anything useful to the conversation.

"So let me get this straight," Mom said firmly. "The two boys who specifically targeted my child for being trans and then threw him through a glass door get off with a slap on the wrists, a week off school and then get to come back as if nothing happened?"

"They're both on their final warning," Simpson explained. "Either of them get any to any sort of trouble again and they're expelled."

"But what if that "any sort of trouble" involves hurting one of my children?" Mom asked darkly. "Why take that risk in the first place?"

"Mrs. Torres, we take bullying very seriously here at-"

The buzzing of the intercom cut Simpson off.

"Principal Simpson?" the receptionist said. "Miss Gosnold's here."

"Great, let her in."

"Who's Miss Gosnold?" Mom asked.

"She's our LGBT advisor," Simpson explained. "Civics teacher; she'll be Adam's-"

"-Babysitter?" Adam groaned.

Simpson didn't offer a rebuttal. Instead he got up to let Miss Gosnold in. She was the sternest looking babysitter Drew had ever seen.

"Adam, this is Miss Gosnold," Simpson said, standing beside the severe looking woman. "She'll come get you five minutes before your class ends and accompany you to your next one."

"Hello Adam," she said, her face expressionless. Drew wondered if she was actually a robot underneath.

"Hey," Adam said unenthusiastically.

As they got up to leave, Simpson shook Mom's hand.

"It was a pleasure to see you again Mrs. Torres," he said. "I only wish it was under different circumstances."

Mom nodded at him.

"Yes, well…"

"And Adam, Drew," Simpson said brightly. "Off you go – don't want to be late for class."

Drew was just about to leave when Simpson took a firm grip of his shoulder, shaking it in a manner Drew could only describe as approving. He didn't know what to make of it at first; he hadn't done anything useful in the meeting, and Adam needed the support more than he did.

Then he remembered the photograph; the one he had once seen on Simpson's desk. He looked over at it again. Simpson and his family; he was being cuddled by a teenage girl. His daughter.

Simpson _understood_.

Mom, Drew, Adam and Adam's robot protector all walked out into the lobby.

"_Suspension_," Mom spat. "That's absurd! If any of those boys do anything to either of you again-"

"Mom, it's fine," Adam urged.

"No it's-" Mom started to say, then she saw that Miss Gosnold was standing right beside her. "Sorry, can I have a moment with my kids?"

"Of course," Miss Gosnold nodded, walking out of earshot.

"Can't we talk about this later?" Adam asked. "Like after school?"

"No, we're not going straight home after school," Mom replied. "And we have dinner with Grandma tonight-"

"When does Dad get back?" Drew asked. He felt like he hadn't spoken to Dad in ages.

"Well Dad's flight gets in at midday, so that's not a problem," Mom explained. "I'll pick you both up from school and then I'll drop Drew off at the house."

"Why?" Adam asked suspiciously. "Where are _we _going?"

"We just need to get you something nice to wear for dinner."

"Really?" Adam asked, brightening up just slightly. "You mean like normal stuff or-"

"-Just something appropriate for dinner," Mom said cryptically. "Then we'll meet Grandma at Raise The Steaks at six."

"Uh Mom?" Drew said. "It's Little Miss Steaks-"

"Same thing," Mom said dismissively. "Sound good?"

Drew and Adam nodded. Mom gave them both a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you after school," she said gently, walking back to the car.

Adam watched her thoughtfully as she disappeared from view.

"When she says "appropriate", she means _my_ kind of appropriate, right?"

.

oOo

.

Drew wasn't sure why he thought Fitz and Owen being suspended meant that he wasn't going to hear anymore crap about Adam. He didn't even get past five minutes of his gym class with the seniors without hearing a "joke" at his brother's expense.

He hadn't even left the change room yet.

"Careful guys," one of the seniors leered. "Lady Torres might've stuck some hidden camera's in here!"

He was looking forward to getting some of his pent-up energy out, especially since he had missed football practice earlier on. Unfortunately they were playing tennis that morning. Tennis wasn't a real sport in Drew's book; no one ever held pep rallies for the big tennis game.

"Drew," a voice called after him. Drew turned around. It was Zane.

"You look terrible," he said, pointing at Drew's eye.

"Thanks," Drew muttered. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday," Zane said.

"Why?" Drew asked. "You didn't do anything."

"Yes, I did," Zane insisted. "I let Owen get to me. I shouldn't have antagonized him at practice. I should know better; I _do_ know better."

Zane span his own racket in his hands, shaking his head broodingly.

"I shouldn't have taken a cheap shot like that, it was petty," he continued. "And then he took it out on someone who didn't do anything wrong, I'm sorry it happened."

"It's not your fault."

"People like Owen are cowards," Zane said, taking a step towards Drew. "He picks on people who aren't going to fight back; he didn't even go after Adam without Fitz's help and Adam's half his size-"

"Hey Drew!"

Larry Blaisdell, a senior fullback from the football team, had stuck two tennis balls down the front of his shirt and was now dancing around the hall.

"Guess who I am?"

"The guy who's gonna have two tennis balls shoved down his throat?" Drew threatened, seeing red as he charged towards Larry only to be stopped by Zane.

"Drew- Drew," he said insistently. "Rise above it; a reaction is what he wants."

"But he's-"

"-An idiot," Zane finished. "But if you antagonize him, he may just do more than make a jackass out of himself."

Zane looked at Drew with an intense look on his face; he was being serious; he wanted Drew to take his advice.

Rise above it. Drew could do that.

If only people didn't spend the rest of the day trying to get Drew to do the exact opposite.

.

oOo

.

Drew only _just_ managed to get through biology without throwing a desk at someone, but he had expected biology to be bad; it was a goldmine for dumb wisecracks.

But English was worse; he wasn't really expecting it from English. Especially since they were reading _Lord of the Flies_; a book about a bunch of kids on a desert island (and possibly a talking pig - Drew hadn't bothered to read it.) Where was the ammo going to come from with that?

Miss Dawes made her usual rounds, walking around the classroom trying to pick someone to talk about the chapter they were supposed to have read for homework. Usually Drew would have tried to make himself as invisible as possible, but Dawes just smiled and passed over him. She must have felt bad for him.

"Mo," she said, gesturing to Mo Mashkour, a heavyset guy slouching in the front row. "Will you summarize chapter five for us?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Mo said, pulling his notes together and clearing his throat. "So Ralph is getting annoyed because none of the other boys are helping out or following the rules or anything and it's causing, I guess… unrest in the camp?"

"Uh-huh," Dawes nodded, "and what _else_ is causing unrest?"

"Um…" Mo started. "Oh. Yeah. The beast - all the little kids are seeing monsters in their nightmares and the older kids are convinced that there's a beast on the island.

"Very good Mo," Dawes continued before addressing the rest of the class. "How is the fear of the beast causing unrest? What is it doing to the boys?"

No one in the class offered an answer, Dawes tutted.

"Come on class," she sighed. "Put yourselves in their shoes. Imagine what it would be like to fear that a beast is living among us."

"Just go over to Drew's house," Julian Williams jeered, causing the whole class to erupt into fits of laugher.

Dawes looked genuinely annoyed; Drew had never seen her act anything more than slightly unpleased before, it was weird to see. It was _awesome_ to see. It distracted Drew from his own anger enough so that he didn't want to stab Julian with his pencil.

"Julian, Principal's office," she ordered firmly, apparently taking Julian by surprise too as he got bewilderedly out of his seat and left the classroom.

Despite Dawes' uncharacteristic strictness, the rest of the class were still giggling and whispering, causing Drew's blood to start crawling to a slow boil. He started to create a list in his head of people he needed to exact revenge on in the future.

Rise above it, he remembered. Don't give them what they want.

"Okay, okay," Dawes said, putting her hands up. "Calm down. Get it out your system. Does anybody need to get anything off their chest before we continue?"

"_Adam Torres does_," Alan Lawson coughed from the back of the class, causing the laughter to break loose again. Marisol Lewis was nearly in tears and didn't start calming down again until Katie Matlin slapped her on the shoulder, pulling a stern face.

Drew would try to remember to keep Katie off his list. Everyone else could burn though.

"Hey!" Dawes yelled, brining the whole class to an abrupt silence. "Marisol, once you've composed yourself, maybe you can lead the discussion about the island's decline of human decency."

Marisol looked sheepish as she picked up her own notes and began to read.

.

oOo

.

Drew made his way to math class much earlier than he usually would. It was his last class of the day, and his only one with Adam. Drew was the first person to arrive to (after Adam, who got taken there early to avoid other people in the hallway.) Being early to class was definitely a first in Drew's book, and it seemed to take Armstrong by surprise.

"Afternoon Drew," he said, cleaning the board of the previous classes work. "You decided to _go_ to your afternoon classes today?"

Drew felt his stomach flip, wondering if he was going to get into trouble.

"Teachers talk to each other," Armstrong said, staring at Drew knowingly. "Skipping class isn't what the change rooms are for-"

"It will never happen again coach," Drew insisted quickly.

"I hope it never has to."

Armstrong's gaze moved over to the back of the class, where Adam sat quietly by himself, staring intently at his worksheet.

"Take your seat."

Drew nodded and dragged himself to the back of the classroom.

"Dude," he whispered to Adam as he sat beside him. "We're being watched."

Drew pointed over to the window on the door at the back of the classroom, where Miss Gosnold stood watching them from the other side, her expression as stern as ever.

"It's cool," Adam said. "I'm teaching her cool phrases like "chill out" and "eat me" and "hasta la vista, baby". We're gonna blow up a computer factory after school to prevent Judgment Day from happening."

"That's not funny John Connor," Drew chastised; Adam would always crack jokes, even in miserable situations. Drew was pretty convinced that Adam could lose a limb and the first thing he'd do after is make pirate jokes.

"_John Connor_?" Adam echoed. "Nah, I'm Kyle Reese!"

"Kyle Reese dies - be John Connor."

"Fine," Adam said, rolling his eyes.

The class started to fill up. Adam went back to concentrating on his worksheet, and Drew could understand why; the staring must have gotten pretty unbearable after a while.

At least math class, unlike English, gym or bio, wouldn't really present too many opportunities for students to make their own stupid jokes. It was the first time Drew could say that he appreciated math. There was only one dig made, and Drew didn't even understand what it meant.

Armstrong was busy writing indecipherable equations on the board, as usual, pointing at random brackets and letters.

"Can anyone find y?"

Liam Berish turned around to face Adam.

"Hey, Adam," he whispered. "Aren't _you_ trying to find a y?"

Hey laughed and nudged Adam on the forearm as if to say "no hard feelings," Drew didn't have a clue what the joke meant, but was sure that it wasn't without at least a little malice.

"Liam," Armstrong called. "What's so funny?"

Liam darted back around the face the front.

"Nothing, sir," he mumbled.

"Then I suggest you keep your mouth shut," Armstrong warned.

"What did he just say?" Drew whispered to Adam. "Was it bad?"

"It's a chromosome joke," Adam explained. "It's probably the smartest joke I've heard all day though."

He sounded almost impressed. Trust Adam to appreciate a clever joke; even if it was at his expense.

"It's wasn't that bad," Adam insisted. "We're doing _Twelfth Night_ in English right now – _that_ was bad! It's like being a walking talking target for crappy jokes. I thought Eli was going to kill someone!"

Drew stared at his blank worksheet; Adam had probably heard way more "jokes" than Drew had that day; and Drew had heard a lot of them.

"How you holding up anyway?" Drew asked.

"Fine," Adam said. "Honestly? I'm way too preoccupied about dinner tonight to really care about the dumb things people in school say. Do you think Grams is going to freak out?"

"I don't know," Drew shrugged. "Maybe. A little. At first. But it's Grams; she _adores_ you."

"She adores _Gracie_. It's not the same thing. I can't believe Mom's actually being cool about this."

Drew didn't respond; he wasn't entirely sure that Mom _was_ being cool about it; she had been pretty vague about what kind of clothes she and Adam would be getting. But Adam obviously wanted to believe she was making progress, and that's what he was telling himself.

"She is being cool about this, right?" Adam asked. "I'm not just kidding myself?"

"Of course she is," Drew said. "Everything's going to go great tonight."

.

oOo

.

Mom dropped Drew off at the house as promised.

"Well be back before six, don't ruin your appetite." she called before driving off with Adam again.

Drew let himself into the house, throwing his book bag by the front door.

"Is that you, champ?"

Dad turned around on the living room couch, peering around to catch a glimpse of Drew in the hallway; frowning at Drew's bruised face.

"You should see the other guy," Drew said, trying to laugh. "Only you can't because he got suspended for kicking the total crap out of me."

"You know fighting is never the answer, Drew."

Drew collapsed on the armchair in the living room, sitting across from Dad.

"Well what would you have done if it was you," Drew asked. "What if it was Aunt Zara?"

"That's what adults are for," Dad answered. "It's their job to resolve these things, not yours."

"Well it's not always the easiest thing to do when you're working at the other side of the country and Mom just yells at everyone all the time," Drew huffed.

Dad leaned forward, getting closer to Drew.

"Look, I'm sorry that I'm away a lot," he said gently. "But it's how we keep a roof over our head. And Mom's _trying_ she really is."

"Yeah, she's taking Adam out for guy clothes for dinner tonight," Drew conceded. "I guess that's _something_."

Dad looked away guiltily, he had a terrible poker face; that's why Mom usually did the punishing in the house – she wouldn't show weakness at anyone's protests or fake crying.

"She _isn't_," Drew said. "Dad, Adam thinks that we're telling Grandma tonight-"

"Not tonight," Dad said. "It's been a long time since we're had Grandma over and Mom wants it to be a nice, happy dinner-"

"Happy for who?" Drew snapped back. "She's being so selfish-"

"She's doing what she thinks is best," Dad insisted, his quiet voice calming Drew down.

Dad pushed himself even further forward on the couch, until he couldn't get any closer to Drew.

"You have to remember how hard it was for Mom," he said. "You had so many people looking out for you after your mother and I separated. When Scott left Mom, she had _no one._ She was left alone with a one-year-old and it was _hard_."

Dad took a deep breath before continuing.

"And the only person she had was Gracie, even when you and I came along it was always just the two of them, remember?"

Drew thought back to the way is was when he was younger. How Mom would chastise Drew for getting Gracie, the golden child, involved in his trouble making schemes (little did Mom seem to realize just how often Gracie was the brains behind the operation.) How proudly Mom would display her infront of friends and relatives; "_Gracie could read at three_," she would say. "_She would just pick up a book and refuse to put it down._" How Mom was determined to get her into all the best after school programs; how the house was plastered with report cards and certificates.

"She had big dreams for her," Dad sighed. "She was so bright; so independent and ambitious."

Drew raised his eyebrows knowingly; he was always convinced that Mom was determined to make Gracie the poster child for smart pretty girls everywhere.

"And then everything changed," Dad said matter-of-factly. "Gracie got sadder and more distant and then one day she just disappeared altogether. It came as a shock to both of us."

"Yeah," Drew admitted, "me too."

"Mom just wants everyone to be happy again," Dad finished. "She wants to show Grandma how proud she is of both of you."

Dad reached for the remote on the coffee table.

"I recorded the Red Skins game," he said, smiling at Drew. "Do you-"

"Do you even need to ask?"

Drew settled into his armchair as Dad skipped over the pre-game commercials.

Dad was a man of few words, but when he did talk it always made Drew feel a little more at peace. Drew couldn't imagine him shouting accusations at someone in a courtroom or trying to manipulate the truth to appeal more to a jury (Dad would laugh at Drew when he tried to tell him this, insisting that real lawyers are nothing like they are on television, they mostly just do a _lot_ of reading.) Drew wished that he could be around more; the house would probably have been a much less hostile place if Dad were able to step in more often. Drew stayed uncharacteristically quiet for the first quarter, enjoying the tranquility that so rarely filled the house. But by the second quarter, the ref was being _so stupid_ that Drew had no choice but to break the peace.

"The ref is killing them, _come on_!" Drew yelled at the screen after he was done with the nice silence. "There's no way that was offside!"

"_There's no way I'm wearing that!"_

Mom and Adam stormed through the doors, both of them so red in the face that Drew could only assume that they both just screamed at each other the whole ride home.

"I'm asking you to wear something nice for _three hours_ tops," Mom snapped back. "You won't even do _that_ for your Grandmother?"

"I want Grams to meet _me,_" Adam said, pointing to himself. "I'm sick of having to hide from everyone-"

"Why can't do this one thing for your family?" Mom said desperately. Drew almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

Adam stormed into the living room and sat huffily on the couch next to Dad.

"We'll tell Grandma next time, bud," Dad said to Adam kindly. "We need to talk to her before we throw all this at her."

Mom walked over and draped a billowy while blouse over the back of the couch.

"It's just a top," she said gently. "Not a dress or a skirt. Just a top and some jeans; that's all."

Adam didn't say anything back. His face started to return to a more human color; his resolve was starting to weaken.

"To be fair," Drew chimed in. "That is one _ugly_ top. I wouldn't wear it either."

Mom glared at him.

"Is that what you're wearing?" She asked pointing to Drew.

"Uh, yeah I guess," Drew shrugged.

"So Adam just needs to get changed and we can all go," Mom urged.

Adam sat there, staring at the coffee table; all eyes on him, waiting for him to respond.

"No," he said weakly. "No, I'm sorry, I'm not doing it."

Mom didn't say anything straight away. She carefully straightened out the creases on the blouse folded over the couch.

"Well then," she sighed. "I guess it's just going to be the three of us. Let's go."

Dad got off the couch, giving Adam a reassuring pat on the back before joining Mom at the door. Drew didn't move.

"Drew," Mom said sharply, "come on, we're going now."

Adam blinked slowly, raising his eyebrows:_ just go, it's fine._

Drew got up and joined Mom and Dad in the hallway.

"I'll see you later bro," he said to Adam as Mom opened the front door, ushering him to leave.

Adam turned around to watch them go, the ugly white top still lying behind him on the back of the couch.

.

oOo

.

_- Am I the only one that thinks it's weird that Simpson calls one of his students "Fitz" instead of their proper name?_

_- There's a Buffy reference in this chapter. If you find it you get a (internet) cookie!_

_In the next chapter: An unexpected guest arrives for dinner._


	32. I'm Looking Through You

_Season 12 you guys, season 12. This might be one of the best seasons of Degrassi in a really long time. That play. That. Play. _

_This chapter is named after a really lovely Beatles song (again) I had the Anthony da Costa/Emily Elbert version on repeat when writing it. Check the song out (any version – it's great regardless) if you don't know it, because it's beautiful!_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "My Body is a Cage (2)"_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 32 - I'm Looking Through You<strong>

Drew was five when he first met Grandma and Grandpa Praedis.

He remembered being nervous about going to their house in Windsor. He had to get on a plane, he didn't like planes; Mommy left on plane. Gracie, a terrible traveler, was sick the whole flight and the pilot felt so bad for her that he took her and Drew up to the front of the cockpit once they had landed. It helped Drew get over his fears of flying a little bit (did nothing for Gracie's travel sickness though).

Grams welcomed him with a tight hug and huge kiss on the cheek as if he had been her grandson forever. She asked him if he was looking forward to his daddy's wedding and he nodded enthusiastically. Then she gave him a big bag of gummi worms; his favorite. Never once did she make him feel like just the random kid whose dad was marrying her daughter; she made him feel like just as much of her grandchild as Gracie was.

Then there was Gramps, Drew loved Gramps; he taught Drew how to burp on cue and how to swear in Lithuanian. He was basically the coolest grandpa ever. He knew every joke under the sun; Gracie would sit for hours with her giant joke book trying to stump him and he'd gladly offer the punch line every time.

On that first trip to Windsor (the first of many) Gramps took Drew and Gracie to the Ambassador Bridge to wave at Michigan. As they walked though Mic Mac Park, happily mowing down ice cream cones and watching the bigger kids throwing themselves down the waterslides, he promised Drew that he'd take him to the big casino for his nineteenth birthday. But Gramps didn't live long enough to see Drew's tenth birthday, let alone his nineteenth.

Gramps started getting sick not long after the wedding, he had a bad heart and got tired easily. He wasn't an unhealthy man by any means but he'd had heart problems for a long time; it ran in the family. He stopped playing touch football with Drew and Gracie, and would have to take frequent rests on their trips to the park. He'd have to tell Gracie to stop quizzing him on jokes if she went on for long enough so that he could take it easy. Then he died. He was alone with Gracie in his hospital bed when he had a massive heart attack. She saw the whole thing, her joke book sitting in her lap. Drew was pretty sure that she never quite recovered from it; she couldn't stand the sight of hospitals after that. Drew was nine at the time.

It was a wonder to Drew that they hadn't met up with Grandma sooner after the move, especially since they lived so much closer to her now. But, obviously, life in the Torres house wasn't exactly the most straightforward and Mom wasn't quite ready to tell Grams the full story yet.

The three of them had been sitting in the waiting area for fifteen minutes, if that, when the front door to the restaurant burst open accompanied by a jovial cheer.

"There they are!"

Drew could tell it was Grams before he even turned around, she just had one of those infectiously cheery voices that never failed to make Drew smile. He stood up to give her a hug.

"You get more and more handsome every time I see you," she said, wrapping herself tightly around Drew the second she walked over to him. "Although I don't approve of this, are you getting into fights?"

"Side affects of football practice, Grams," Drew said as she fussed over his eye.

"You're one down tonight?" she asked, looking around. "Where's my Gracie?"

"I'll explain in a second, Mom," Mom insisted. "Let's just get a table first."

A gawky boy in an ill-fitting cowboy outfit approached them.

"Table for four?" He asked squeakily. Mom nodded.

"So Gracie _isn't_ here?" Grams asked sadly.

"I can get you a booth if you wait five minutes for us to get it cleared up," he lanky cowboy offered.

"That would be great, thanks," Mom said before turning back to Grams. "I'll explain when we get a seat, Mom, I promise."

Grams didn't argue as everybody got seated in the waiting area again.

"So," Grams said, beaming at Drew, "You're an Ontarian now."

"Yeah," Drew said, beaming right back at her. "Are you proud?"

"Oh, very," she winked before looking over to Mom. "I knew you'd come to your senses eventually and move back home."

"_Still _Mom?" Mom deadpanned, "I got a full scholarship to UVic, you expect me not to take that up?"

"You could have went to Smithdale," Grams sighed. "Stayed at home, got home cooked meals every night-"

"-I think it all worked out for the best in the end," Mom said, raising her eyebrows.

Grams looked back over to Dad and Drew. She tilted her head; unlike when Mom did it, this was a sign of affection.

"I suppose it did."

"Table's ready."

The lanky cowboy had returned. He ushered them to a table near the back and handed them some menus.

"Your server will be here in just a minute," he said. "Enjoy your meal, partners."

He tipped his too-large Stetson and left them to peruse the menus.

"You're always taking me to restaurants with pictures on the menus," Grams said to Mom sitting next to her. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"No, Mom," Mom said perplexed. "We just heard that the food's good here."

"Not even a chuckle," Grams said to Drew, grinning mischievously. "Gracie always likes my jokes, where _is_ she?"

Beside Drew, Dad pulled his menu further up to hide his terrible, terrible poker face. Drew, in a bid to hide his own bad poker face, buried his head into his own menu, refusing to look at anything else.

"Uh, she's sorry she couldn't make it," Mom said, flustered. "But, you know, she had commitments after school and-"

Drew wasn't totally paying attention; he was too busy admiring the nacho platter. He didn't even look up at the familiar voice saying "hey."

It was Dad who prompted Drew to finally look up.

"Gracie."

Drew put his menu down and looked at the person standing behind Grams.

Her.

"Glad you could make it," Dad said as Mom just sat here, staring at her in shock.

It was her.

She sat down on the outside seat beside Drew, looking down at the table.

It was really her.

"Yeah," Drew managed to say. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Drew could feel himself smiling. That was probably the entirely wrong reaction to have; he should have been spitting out the drink he didn't have yet, or sitting with his jaw hanging from the floor, or flashing that usual confused expression he wore in class so much. But not _smiling -_ smiling would suggest that he was happy about what was going on, and that would make him a terrible person.

But it was really Gracie. She was back.

She didn't look at him, instead choosing to sink down into her chair.

"Mom said you couldn't make it," Grams said, she too was grinning, just as delighted to see her as Drew was.

"Yeah, well," she said. It sounded _just_ like her. She was _real_. "I couldn't _not_ see you."

Grams reached across the table and took Gracie's hand. Gracie didn't flinch or pull away at it. It wasn't anyone else. It was the same old Gracie.

"Well I just hope I'm not interfering with you school commitments."

"My commitments?"

"Gracie," Mom said quietly, "Come with me to the bathroom?"

"What?" Gracie said in mild panic, "the bathroom as in the-"

"-As in the bathroom," Mom pressed, "come on."

Mom took Gracie's arm and ran off with her to the girl's room. Drew felt a hazy sense of panic at Gracie leaving; what if she didn't come back?

"Is everything alright?" Grams asked Dad. "Is something wrong?"

"No-no," Dad insisted, staring at the ceiling; he was _such_ a bad liar. "I think they just need to have a quick heart-to-heart. In the, uh, restaurant bathroom."

Dad dipped his head back into his menu and said nothing. Grams turned her attention back to her own menu and Drew sat in silence, taking in what had just happened. Gracie was back; she was actually back. He had his sister again. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened over the past six months, hear her laugh at how he got wrapped to a flagpole and watch roll her gigantic Gracie eyes when she told him that he totally deserved it. He could show her his new bedroom and the cool new basement that they had; she would love the dartboard. He could take her to The Dot and introduce her to Alli; she was a smart girl too – they'd get along. After dinner they could play video games and-

Drew stopped himself. He was being ridiculous. There would be no after dinner video game sessions. Gracie wouldn't be coming home with them. She'd be leaving them the instant they said goodbye to Grams. When the clock struck midnight the glass slipper would turn back into a battered sneaker and Gracie would be gone again.

Drew would have to make the most of it while he could.

Mom came back with her after a few minutes, both of them slightly pink in the face and Gracie looking gloomier than it was possible for a human to look, but she was still there. She didn't leave him.

Drew put the back of his hand to her cheek; she didn't move a muscle.

"You're burning," he said. Gracie looked back at him, but didn't mirror his big goofy grin.

"Yeah, it's, uh, hot in the bathroom," she said quietly.

"You're red too," Grams said to Mom, who was fixing her hair, trying to compose herself.

"Uh- it's fine," Mom lied. "We just had to have words about somebody wandering downtown on her own at night."

Mom gave Gracie a knowing look, urging her to go along with the lie.

"I got a cab," she murmured, staring at her lap.

"Hmm, I'm with Mom on this one sweetheart," Grams said gently. "A pretty girl like you walking the streets alone at night? It just wouldn't be safe."

"Drew does it all the time," Gracie bemoaned.

"We'll Drew's a boy and you're-"

Gracie shot a fierce look at Mom before she could finish.

"Let's order," Mom finished.

Nobody said anything until the waitress approached their table. As she got closer, Drew noticed that she looked a lot like-

Oh no.

"Howdy y'all," Marisol said brightly, "Can I get you some- _woah_."

She stared at Gracie, mouth gaping open. Gracie did her very best to disappear into the chair again.

"I'll go get you guys a different server," Marisol said, backing away. "Yeah…"

"What was _that_ about?" Grams asked in confusion, watching Marisol scurry across the restaurant and back to the kitchen.

"That's Marisol," Drew explained to Grams. "She goes to our school. We went on a date once. It, uh, didn't go well."

"Oh?"

"She ordered my tuna sundae."

Grams looked baffled for a second, but quickly recovered.

"You've been at your new school less than a semester and already you're the catch of the day," Grams beamed. "How about you Gracie? Are you chasing the boys away with a stick?"

Gracie looked a bit sick at the notion, but didn't get a chance to reply before Grams spoke up again.

"Oh, of course you are. _Look _at you."

Drew did. He had always accepted that Gracie was pretty, but he's never really looked before, because that was just a weird thing to do. But Drew's whole life was weird so he took a good look at Gracie. Of course, she had those huge eyes; the ones that could get Drew to do anything. The delicateness that made Adam look impossibly young made Gracie look, well, aptly graceful; she had a long neck and high cheekbones and all those other things that other girls would give their back teeth for.

She really was beautiful. Even when she looked so sad.

She couldn't have been _that_ sad though. She wouldn't have been there if she didn't want to be; if she didn't want to be back, even if it was just a little bit.

"Howdy y'all," a new server recited, "Can I get you some drinks?"

Everyone ordered. Mom chastised Gracie for only ordering a side of fries for herself

"Is that all you're having?" she asked.

"I'm not really hungry," Gracie muttered. "I don't feel all too great."

"Are you alright?" Grams said, looking at Gracie with concern. "You don't look yourself."

Mom shot Drew a look before he could say anything.

"She's perfect," Mom whispered, pulling a strand of Gracie's hair back.

No one spoke for a long time, or maybe it was no time at all; Drew couldn't be sure, time didn't feel like a real thing in that moment. Time wasn't reliable. Time was working against him. Time would take Gracie away again.

He nudged her elbow with his.

"So," he said gawkily. "Do you like the restaurant?"

Gracie shrugged, then flinched slightly, reminding Drew that Adam was still lingering there, threatening to get rid of his sister at any moment.

"We haven't even had our food yet," she said, giving him a feeble glare.

"Oh," Drew said stupidly. "Well… do you like how it's decorated?"

Drew wasn't entirely sure what he was saying, and he was more than aware of stupid he probably sounded. But he just wanted to talk to her about something, about _anything_, while he still could.

"Who ordered the coffee?"

Drew's concentration was broken by their server returning with their drinks, everyone's attention divided as he doled them out to each person.

"Here you go," he chimed as he placed Drew's glass beside him, "and for young lady."

Gracie shut her eyes, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else but at that table. Drew apparently wasn't the only one who picked up on it. Mom busied herself with her coffee, as did Dad. Grams cleared her throat and reached for her purse.

"I have something you might like," she said, trying to brush aside the heavy atmosphere that had clouded the table. She must have been totally baffled as to what was really going on.

"I was cleaning out an old drawer and there they were."

Grams pulled a small stack of photographs out of her purse and handed them to Mom, who doted over them before flipping the first one over to show everyone else.

Drew remembered that photo; Grandpa took it just after Mom and Dad got married. They were at Malden Park, just by The Ambassador Bridge. It was their go-to place to eat ice cream, feed the ducks and try to spot tourists. Drew was five in that photo, Gracie four, and they were both grinning widely. It was back in a time where nobody had to force Gracie to smile for pictures, she did it willingly.

Drew mirrored his younger self's smile. He really did like that photo.

"Gracie and Drew were the best of friends from the day they met," Mom sighed before handing the picture to Dad.

Drew didn't bother resisting his overwhelming urge to pinch Gracie on the cheek, she still looked miserable, maybe it would cheer her up a little bit.

It didn't.

She pulled her chair a few inches to the right, a few inches further away from Drew. Admittedly, it wasn't really that much further away, but it may as well have been the other side of the restaurant for the distance it seemed to create between them.

The adults were all still fawning over photographs. Mom was staring at the one in her hands with particular fondness.

"Such a beautiful girl."

"Oh yeah," Dad said as Mom passed the photo to him, "what book where you squashing there, Gracie?"

As Dad passed the picture to Drew, who quickly passed it to Gracie, Drew realized that he knew the answer to Dad's question. He didn't remember the photo (an-8-year-old Gracie standing in the woods, clutching onto an old-looking book) but he remembered that summer spent at Grandma and Grandpa's, the last before Grandpa died. Drew and Gracie had to share the guest bedroom and Gracie would keep him awake with the light from the bedside lamp as she insisted on reading Little Women for the umpteenth time that summer.

Drew chastised her for this; why would anyone willingly read a book _once_, let alone several times - and a _girl's_ book at that. And Gracie would retort that Little Women was _not_ a girl's book; the hero was Jo March and she was _awesome_. She wasn't even really a girl anyway – she didn't act like one or feel like one, so she was a realistic representation of what most real girls felt like. Drew remembered asking Gracie if that was true, it real girls didn't even _like_ being girls, and Gracie insisted that yes, that's how every girl felt on the inside.

He should have seen it all coming.

Gracie was staring pretty intently at the photograph and Drew wondered if maybe she was remembering the same thing that he was. She looked up.

"Actually, I have something to tell Grams."

"Gracie?" Mom warned, "Please?"

Gracie stopped herself, looking at Grams frowning in the corner as she waited for an answer.

"I uh-"

Drew looked at her, waiting for her to say whatever it was she was going to tell Grams. He held his breath in nervous anticipation.

Gracie's expression remained steely, she didn't take her eyes of Grams.

"I'm taking ballroom dancing class."

Out of the corner of his eye, Drew could see Mom start to breathe again. Apparently she too had been holding her breath.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Grams beamed.

She turned to smile at Drew, as if to say "isn't that nice?" and Drew found himself smiling back as if to say "yes, it is." He was starting to feel like he was on an old sitcom, that none of what was happening was real and someone was going to yell "cut" at any second, shattering the illusion of the perfect happy family.

_And honestly_, he asked himself, _was that really much more of an exaggeration of what was actually happening?_

Mom played with Gracie's hair, keeping up the pretence that everything was wonderful. Drew could just make out her whispering.

"I miss you so much."

Gracie wriggled away from her, moving her chair back to Drew's direction, apparently finding herself trapped between two people who were being nice to her to be the most insufferable thing in the world.

She didn't make another sound until everyone was done with their food. Drew ended up eating most of her fries and telling her about his upcoming game against Montgomery. Other than Marisol saying "_whoa_" under her breath every time she passed their table, it was easy enough for Drew to pretend that everything was the way it used to be, back when life was simple and predictable and peaceful. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen a family dinner where everyone was smiling and laughing and telling stories.

Well, _almost_ everyone.

"Alright," said Grams purposefully as she put her napkin on her plate, "kids, you come sit with me. It's time for presents."

Mom rolled her eyes and tutted.

"Oh, Mom you don't have to get them anything-"

"-Nonsense," Grams scoffed, "I'm their Grandmother, and if I want to give them presents, then I will!"

She ushered for Mom to take Drew's seat, getting up to let Gracie get into the booth first since she was the smallest, then sat back down before Drew took his place at the other side of Grams.

"Presents!" She cheered, reaching under the table to reach for two wrapped gifts. She seemed more excited at the prospect of presents than either Drew or Gracie did – and it was _their_ presents.

"You first, Drew," she said, passing a small box wrapped in blue paper adorned with little footballs.

Madden 11 for PSP. He had wanted it for ages. He had played the last one constantly at Grams' house the summer before.

"Thanks, Grams," he said before putting one arm around her and preparing himself for a kiss on the cheek.

"Now Gracie's turn," she said, passing a longer parcel to her. This one wrapped in purple paper adorned with butterflies. It looked like it might contain a scarf and Drew prepared himself for an awkward silence when it was opened. Gracie seemed to realize this too as she hesitated to open it.

It was a guitar strap; black with the Batman logo stamped all across it.

Grams put her arms around both of her grandchildren, pulling them in closer to her.

"See, other Grandma's get you ugly sweaters and stale cookies," Grams chimed. "I get you stuff you'll actually like."

Gracie held that guitar strap like it was made of gold; like it was the most valuable thing in the world. Like it wasn't a necklace or a hair ribbon, but something only someone who truly understood her would give her.

"Thank you, Grams," Gracie said, breaking into a genuine smile and resting her head on Grams shoulder as she pulled Gracie in for a hug.

Drew just sat there, watching as Gracie stayed wrapped in her Grandmother's arms. Drew still had one of his arms around Grams, he was so close to Gracie, being hugged by Grams. It was almost like-

"Why don't you come back to the house for coffee?" He blurted out before anyone could stop him.

"I thought you still had work to do on the house-" Grams said.

"-The downstairs is fine though," Drew insisted. "You can come over."

He took a deep breath; he wasn't even looking at Grams anymore. Gracie was sitting trapped in the corner, looking sheet white, lightly shaking her head, pleading him not to say it.

"And you can stay with us a little longer."

.

oOo

.

"Oh, I remember this," Grams exclaimed, fawning over the photo album Mom had fished out of some hidden location. They were one their second coffees and showing no time of slowing. Not that Drew minded; it was more time of things being back to normal, he wasn't going to complain.

Gracie was wedged between Mom and Grams of the living room couch. She wasn't saying much, but she was _there_ and that was the important thing.

"They always had the cutest little Halloween costumes," Grams said, pointing at a page in the album. "They always matched."

"Well I had one of each, and they were both so cute," Mom said, smiling at the photographs. "I may have went just a_ little_ bit overboard with the costumes."

Grams nodded in agreement as she finished her second coffee.

"Do you remember their first Halloween together?"

Mom sat up, both her and Grams got more high-pitched every time they spoke.

"And they were Calvin and Hobbes-"

"-And you made Gracie that little all-in-one tiger suit-"

"-With the fluffy footie paws-"

"-and the hood with the little ears!"

Gracie sat beside them, flinching that the level of shrillness it was all reaching.

"You _lived_ in that thing for months," Mom said to her, "you wore it to bed and everything."

"Yeah," Gracie muttered, "and you _let_ me."

"Well it made you so happ-"

Mom stopped herself, realizing the impact those words and what they meant. She clung onto the photo album, staring at the photographs of her child wearing a costume; smiling as they pretended to be someone else.

"Well it wasn't like it was hurting anybody," she said weakly before clearing her throat. "It's getting late, we should probably get Grams back to the hotel."

She pushed herself off the couch, gently placing the photo album on the coffee table followed quickly by Dad and then Grams.

"Enjoy your game, Drew," Grams said, moving over to Drew. He got off the armchair and gave her a tight hug.

"Bye Grams."

She turned to Gracie, who was still sitting stiffly on the couch.

"Gracie?"

Gracie pulled herself off the couch and walked behind it stand next to Grams.

"You look exhausted," she said, pressing her hand gently to Gracie's face.

"Yeah, it's been a long day," Gracie said quietly.

"Well, at least give me a Gracie-hug before you go to bed," Grams said warmly.

Grams put her arms around Gracie, pulling her in tightly. Seeing it made Drew's throat tighten, half expecting Gracie to push away at any moment. But she didn't. She wasn't going to push away, not while she was still Gracie.

"Goodnight, Grams," she said as Grams finally let go and headed towards the front door with Mom and Dad.

Gracie turned around and put her hand on the banister. Drew felt his stomach flip, he knew once she went up those stairs she'd been gone forever. He knew he wasn't going to get another chance ever again; Gracie was going to bed and Adam was going to wake up.

"Hey, don't I get a Gracie-hug too?"

Gracie froze. She didn't turn around straight away. Drew wondered if she was ever going to turn around at all.

"Aw, c'mon," Drew said. He couldn't help himself; he had to _try_. "I could really use it."

Gracie's head fell as she turned around. She slowly walked back towards him, her arms looking so heavy as she wrapped them around his back.

He clung on so tightly, his eyes screwed shut, never wanting to let her go. To keep her forever. A rush of happiness, followed instantly by a rush of sadness, overwhelmed him. He was glad he wasn't facing away from everyone else; they would probably think that he was crying (he wasn't obviously, it just really looked like he was.)

She didn't feel like a real person. It felt more like hugging a statue than anything else. But it was still her, it was still Gracie - his baby sister. And it would be the last time that Drew could ever get to hold her.

He could hear Grams fawning at them and realized that he'd have to let go. He'd have to let go of Gracie forever. He pressed his face on Gracie's good shoulder to dry his face (it wasn't tears, not really, because Drew wasn't crying or anything.)

He pulled away, smiling, still holding onto Gracie's arms. Her eyes were narrow and small and so un-Gracie-like that Drew didn't recognize her for a second. Her mouth was shut so tightly, but it made her look like she was screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked so betrayed.

"Goodnight Drew," She said lowly as she pulled herself out of Drew's hands and turned herself back around to retreat up the stairs. She would be gone by the time she got to Adam's room.

Drew didn't take his eyes off her, still staring at the light at the top of the landing as she disappeared from sight.

"Goodnight Gracie."

.

oOo

.

Drew cleared the table as Mom and Dad took Grams back to the hotel. He could still feel Gracie's warmth on him, but otherwise he didn't feel any different. The hole was still there; the big Gracie-shaped hole that he usually did his best to ignore. It was feeling particularly ominous at that moment.

He started washing the dishes. Usually he'd bemoan having to do it, but it made a welcome distraction from the weird twistedness he was feeling. He unconsciously put the clean cups on the side for someone to dry, but no one was there, not Gracie or Adam or anyone.

Drew didn't have anyone by his side for once.

He hesitated doing the drying, fearing that it may somehow be a betrayal to wash _and _dry the dishes by himself.

But it wasn't like it was the only betrayal Drew would have committed that night.

He put the dry dishes away and stood idly in the kitchen, trying to think what he could do to distract himself. Nothing came to mind.

Sleep. That would get his mind off things.

He lumbered up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. He stopped when he got to the top and saw what was lying on the floor of the landing.

A cardboard box, ripped haphazardly open, the clothes spilling out of it partially hiding the words written on the side.

_For G.T._

It came in handy after all.

Drew did his best to ignore it as the walked past it and into his bedroom, not even bothering to get changed before collapsing onto the bed. He tried to listen for sounds coming from the next room. It was totally silent.

At least, it was for a little while.

The noises that night couldn't be mistaken for anything else; the squeaking sound of the wooden drawer being opened, the clattering as someone rummaged for something, the brief silence as that object was found, the snipping sound of a lighter, the definite clicking sound as it stayed lit, the sharp intake of breath.

Drew would have done something, he really would have. But going into that room and seeing would make it real, it would mean that is was really happening.

And it would be his fault.

Instead, he pulled his sheets over his head and hoped that the silence would come soon.

.

oOo

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><p><em>- The working title for this chapter was "Coop de Gracie" (like coup de grâce, but not because Drew is prolonging Adam's suffering by trying to keep Gracie for longer –cooping her up? Heh? No, not funny? Not even a little?) Yeah, when have to spend that long explaining a title, it's just not worth it. I'd thought I'd tell you anyway though, because you seem like a cool person.<em>

_- "It's bad enough to be a girl, any-way, when I like boy's games, and work, and manners. I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy," – Jo March in Little Women. Jo was always my favourite when I was younger. (Obviously, Jo's despair over being a girl and having to do girl things has more to do with the confined gender-roles of the time than her actual sense of gender-identity, but little 8-year-old Gracie probably doesn't know that…)_

_In the next chapter: Drew gets what he wished for. Yay?_


	33. Grey Thursday

_Showdown's over, back to fic writing! _

_This chapter contains dialogue (read: one line) from the season 10 episode "My Body is a Cage (2)"_

* * *

><p>.<p>

oOo

.

**Chapter 33 Grey Thursday**

Drew slept in on the Thursday morning.

He had already planned to stay in bed longer; his usual early-morning football practice had been relegated to after school for a change, allowing him an extra two hours in bed. But that wasn't the only reason he kept his face hidden under the covers.

He waited in his blanket fortress, listening out for Adam shutting off his alarm clock and slowly getting out of bed before walking out of his room and into the hallway, briefly pausing for some reason before finally going into the bathroom and locking the door.

Drew just couldn't face him. He couldn't see the look on Adam's face. He couldn't see how much his own brother hated him.

It took him a few tries to actually pull himself up and out of his bed. He felt unusually heavy, as if the very act of supporting himself was an impossible feat. He opened his own bedroom door and trudged into the obscenely light-filled hallway, stopping when he saw The Box still lying on the floor, clothes spilling out the top from just as they had done the night before. It stayed in the corner of Drew's eye as he dragged himself towards the stairs, stubbornly refusing to let him avoid seeing it. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that it was somehow judging him.

Mom didn't greet him as he hauled himself onto a chair to join her at the breakfast table. She was staring intently on the screen on the laptop sitting infront of her. She sat unmoving without typing or clicking anything; she just stayed determinedly focused on the screen. After a few minutes of this, Drew started to suspect that she wasn't actually reading anything, but just staring. He wondered if she was just daydreaming or if she was in an avoiding mood too.

He didn't bother trying to break her concentration as he poured himself a bowl of cereal. He was suddenly alert to the fact that his elbows were sticking out awkwardly, taking up way more than his fair share of table space and tried to hunch himself smaller as he ate his Corn Flakes. He was very aware of how loud it sounded as he ate; he felt weirdly guilty for ruining the silence. He waited and let the milk soften it a little more before continuing, it didn't taste as good, but at least he was being less of a big, loud, lumbering idiot. He shuddered as his spoon clanked against the empty bowl. Why did he have to make so much noise? Why did he have to take up so much room?

He tried to be as quiet as possible as he pulled his chair out and stood up, making his way back to his room to hide while he waited for Adam to finish up in the bathroom. He tried and failed to avoid The Box as he darted across the hallway and back into his dark room. He half considered crawling back into his bed and hiding under the covers again, but managed to shake that idea out of his head. He knew he couldn't hide forever.

But he _could_ hide until he absolutely _had_ to get into the car and go to school, and that was good enough for Drew.

He listened for any indication that Adam was almost finished in the bathroom, but, just like everyone else, he was being eerily quiet. Drew sat on the bed, waiting. Ten minutes, twenty, half-an-hour went past and the bathroom remained both occupied and completely silent. A horrible feeling started to creep into Drew's stomach as the countless possibilities as to what could be going on popped into his mind. He forced himself to swallow it down as the feeling started to approach his throat and pushed himself off the bed.

He brushed past The Stupid Damn Box again and knocked urgently on the bathroom door.

"Open up, you've been in there forever, come on." he said forcefully. He couldn't help but notice how much like a jerk he sounded and wondered if that was how he _always_ sounded.

Probably.

He heard Adam sigh heavily and felt himself do the same, but the sickly feeling reappeared when Adam made no other effort to reply. He didn't want to talk to Drew. He must have really hated him.

Drew slunk back to his own room before Adam could exit the bathroom and hate him some more. He had to remain in hiding for another ten minutes before Adam finally emerged and make his way back to his own room. Drew waited until he was sure that Adam wouldn't reappear in the hall and retraced his steps back to the bathroom, but something was different.

The Box was gone.

Adam must have taken it away when he made his way back to his room, something Drew was extremely grateful for; it was one less thing to remind him of how guilty he felt.

His reflection in the bathroom mirror, however, was much, much harder to avoid. His black eye was still there, reminding him of how useless he was at everything. His stupid cumbersome shoulders took up too much room and his arms stuck out stupidly no matter how he tried to move them. It was so infuriating too look at that it seemed like some sort of miracle that people didn't want to punch in his dumb face all the time. How could people even stand to look at something so _maddening_?

The sunshine was forcing its way into the room through the high window, staining the room with an excruciating amount of light; ricocheting off of every reflective surface to only further intensify the torture. The birds outside, obviously conspiring with the insufferable sunlight, where having an unending contest to see who could be the loudest and shrillest. It was what Disney movies must have felt like to people who hated cartoons. Drew was pretty sure that nature was trying to punish him somehow.

He started to run the water in the shower, drowning out the incessant chirping. It was a little too cold, but he didn't bother trying to fix it – there was no point in trying to fix it, he was still going to get wet. He could hear Adam emerge from his room and amble down the stairs. Mom was saying something to him, but Drew couldn't make it out from upstairs. It sounded pretty cheerful though – clearly Mom was trying to get back into Adam's good books.

He didn't bother with his usual post-shower preen, instead choosing to dart back to his room and get dressed. Why were all his clothes so _bright_? Everything he owned was shockingly bold, he probably looked like a big walking target all the time. He finally found a shirt that wasn't too colorful, took a few deep breaths and readied himself to confront his brother.

He started feeling anxious again as the walked down the stairs to finally face Adam, feeling more and more filled with dread as the table became increasingly visible through that archway that framed the dining room. He felt clammy, _unclean _even, he wondered if he could go back and have another shower.

Mom came into view. She had moved; she was kneeling behind the chair that Drew had previously occupied, her arms wrapped tightly around-

Gracie.

Drew felt himself plunge as he missed the last step on the stairs, falling hard onto the floor and smacking the back of his head.

Mom sharply tuned her head to look over to Drew, but made no effort to let go of Gracie, who remained perfectly still.

"Are you okay?" Mom asked, startled.

"Yeah," Drew groaned as he picked himself back up. His face felt winded, if that was even possible. His whole _body_ felt winded, and he was pretty sure the fall wasn't entirely at fault. Everything started rushing to his head, whirlpooling in his brain. He felt like he'd suddenly been turned upside down: nothing was where he remembered it being; the walls were moving, the windows were shrinking, his sister was sitting on his chair.

He didn't dare shake himself out his unsteadiness for fear that his mind was somehow playing tricks on him, that it would stop being real. It _had_ to be real.

Gracie went to bed.

And Gracie woke up.

Drew staggered over to Mom's now empty chair, pushing her laptop to the side so as to better take in what he was seeing.

The world started to settle again to it's normal stillness again, but nothing changed.

Only _everything_ changed. It was different; it was upside down.

Drew finally felt brave enough to shake himself out of it. No, it wasn't different, it wasn't upside down; it had _been_ upside down for months. It was finally normal again. Gracie was back, and she was at the breakfast table like old times, and Mom was smiling, she was really _smiling_.

It was over.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Mom asked, wrapping her arms still tighter around Gracie. "I'll make you anything you want."

"I'm not really hungry," Gracie said quietly.

"Pancakes?" Mom said, leaning her temple against Gracie's. "Chocolate chip pancakes. From scratch."

Gracie looked at her uncertainly.

"We'll be late-"

"I'll tell the school we had car troubles, it's fine," Mom said, pulling herself up from the floor. "I'll go make you breakfast."

She kissed the top of Gracie's head and bounded into the kitchen. Drew could feel himself staring but he didn't care. Gracie seemed to be doing everything in her power to not look back at him. Eventually, she caved in.

"What?" she said, but not in her usual snappiness that she reserved especially for Drew.

"What are you doing?" Drew asked dumbfoundedly.

"Having pancakes apparently-"

"-No, I mean," Drew said, stopping himself before his voice could get loud enough for Mom to overhear. "You _know_ what I'm talking about."

Gracie didn't answer him; instead she tensed up and stared at the floor. If she were taking up any less room she would have been invisible. She looked almost _ashamed _to be there; she hadn't even done anything to feel ashamed of. Drew reached over, gently tugging at the sleeve of her grey hoodie; he had spied it in The Box earlier. It had that soft, fluffy feel that only belonged on clothes when they were brand new; before they'd been stuck in the laundry too many times and lost their nice freshness for a rough lived-in comfort that felt more like a second skin than it did clothing. Drew always thought that it was a terrible shame that his clothes couldn't somehow be both.

"Is this forever?" he asked quietly, leaning lower to the table, forcing Gracie to look at him. She looked up; she looked dangerously close to tears.

"Yeah."

"You're staying like this?"

She nodded.

"I'm done," she said, her mouth, like the rest of her, getting smaller and smaller, threatening to disappear entirely.

She started anxiously chewing on her fingernails, something Drew hadn't seen her do for years. Her hand moved down, holding onto her neck. It looked jarringly close to what it would look like if someone were trying to strangle their self.

Drew pulled her hand away before he could think about it. Gracie jumped at the motion, seemingly unaware of what she had been doing.

"Gracie," he said gently. He didn't have any other words to offer. It was unsettling; he _always_ knew what so say to Gracie to make her feel better. But suddenly he couldn't think of anything.

"Stupid," she muttered before folding her arms on the table. Drew wasn't sure what was stupid; was Gracie stupid for thinking that she could keep the whole Adam thing up forever? Was Mom stupid for making pancakes half an hour before they had to leave the house? Was Drew stupid for, well, _everything_? Because he was useless and careless and thoughtless all at the same time?

"And this is what you want to do?" Drew eventually asked.

"It's what I _have_ to do," she said. "It was stupid to think that-"

She let out a noise that could almost be mistaken for a laugh. Almost.

"I'm not playing anymore."

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oOo

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It was shaping up to be a really nice day.

It was still pretty green for autumn, almost as if someone knew to hold onto summer for a little longer; that things were going to get brighter again. Like the world was rewarding Drew for his patience.

He sat in the back of the car quietly, hazily enjoying the warmth of the sunlight though the window and listening to Mom giving Gracie some encouragement in the front seat.

"You know what's so nice about this?" she said to Gracie brightly. "You get to have brand new start at school. Your classmates have never met _you _before, but they're not going to be total strangers to you. It's like getting a head start. How many people can say that, huh?"

Gracie, who after breakfast seemed to be making at least _some_ sort of actual effort to be her old self again, nodded her head.

"I guess so."

"And they'll all get to see how pretty you are," Mom added. "You'll have people fighting over each other to be your dance partner in gym."

"Uh-huh."

"And I can talk to the school about getting you transferred into regular gym. Like you wanted."

"Cool."

Drew didn't join in. He didn't know _how_. He was pretty sure that he was happy. He got what he wanted. He got his sister back. He got his normal life back.

But the gnawing feeling that had been festering in his stomach for the past few months was still there, the hole didn't go away, it didn't get bigger or smaller. It just sort of _moved_. And moving made it so much harder to ignore – he had gotten so used to it being where it was. Suddenly everything stopped being upside down. He had been getting used to upside down. He was even getting somewhat _fond_ of upside down.

He had always wanted a brother. It was nice to know what it felt like, even if it was only for a little while.

Drew was going to miss him.

Mom pulled up to the school's entrance, slapping her hands down on the steering wheel purposefully.

"See? Five minutes to spare," she said as Drew and Gracie unbuckled their seatbelts. "Have a great day, sweetheart."

She gave Gracie a kiss on the forehead before Gracie could leave the car.

"You too, Drew," she said, giving Drew the same warning look he remembered her giving him on Gracie's first day of elementary school; the one that meant only one thing.

_Watch her._

Drew nodded dutifully and jumped out of the car to join Gracie, putting a protective arm around her.

"Come on," he said trying to sound brisk, "we'll be late."

As he walked through the front doors, Drew could feel Gracie lean into him under the weight of his arm, from being pushed forward, from everything. Drew squeezed her arm reassuringly; he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. She wasn't going anywhere. Not again.

"I'll meet you after homeroom, okay?" he said as he ushered her towards their lockers. "Walk you to your first class."

"I think that's what Miss Gosn-"

Gracie stopped walking. Drew could feel her tense up from under his arm. He followed Gracie's eye line to see what had caught her attention.

Clare and Ghoulsworthy were happily chatting away to one another at the lockers. They hadn't spotted Drew or Gracie yet.

"It's okay," he said gently, picking up the pace for both of them. "Let's just go to class."

Drew made sure not to look at the two of them as he ushered Gracie past, he didn't to catch either of their eyes, especially not Ghoulsworthy. Ghoulsworthy would start a scene.

He really thought that he had gotten past undetected. Then he heard Ghoulsworthy shouting after them.

"Adam? Hey, Adam!"

Drew looked back, Ghoulsworthy started walking after them, a determined look on his face. Gracie, much to Drew's relief, kept her head down and sped up along with him. Clare grabbed Eli's arm, stopping him and pulling him back to the lockers before any sort of confrontation could happen.

However, he _had_ yelled "Adam" loudly enough to cause everyone else in the hallway to suddenly start paying attention.

"No _way_!"

"Looking good, ladies!"

"Hey cutie, where've _you_ been hiding?"

"Hey, shut up!" Drew shouted back. It made him feel useful for a change. He was back in his element. It felt good. Only it didn't feel good at all.

He pulled Gracie in closer, hurried through the hallways and dropped her off at homeroom.

"Okay, so you have terminator lady to walk you to class. But I'll come get you for lunch, sound good?"

Gracie clung on to her backpack tightly and nodded.

"Good," Drew said nodding back. "Here."

He pulled her in for a quick, encouraging hug. She looked slightly stunned by it. At least it was a step up from betrayed. Drew smiled at her.

"Everything's going to be easier now," he said. "I promise."

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oOo

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"So how was ballroom?"

"It was… ballroom. I danced with the teacher."

"Really? Wow, you must have been really, really good to get to dance with the teacher."

"Not really. Just couldn't really dance with my old partner anymore."

Drew paid for both their lunches and escorted Gracie to a quiet table in the corner. He still couldn't work out of she was actually all right. She was saying that she was fine, she wasn't yelling or crying or anything. But she just didn't seem like she was really _there_. She sat at the lunch table staring into space. She didn't even touch her pizza (Drew ended up eating it, because wasting food was worse than stealing food.) He started devising cheer up projects in his head, but he kept finding problems with them. His first thought was to take her to The Dot, but there would probably lots of people from school there and they'd say things. He thought about a night of video games, but remembered that they would have to change the name's on all of Adam's old accounts first and suddenly it seemed more depressing than fun. They definitely weren't going to go to Little Miss Steaks. If Drew could avoid it, he'd never go back to that place again.

"Hey."

Drew looked up, breaking free from his pointless concentration to find Alli standing beside the table.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Drew quickly shuffled over to the next chair.

"Sure, sit down."

"I mean alone," Alli muttered, looking over to Gracie awkwardly.

"I'll be back in just a sec," he said to Gracie, not that she responded, and followed Alli over to the back of the cafeteria.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Isn't it pretty obvious what's going on?" Drew shrugged. "Gracie's being herself again. Everything's back to normal now."

"I wouldn't call any of this normal, Drew," Alli said carefully. "Yesterday Adam was here and-"

"-Adam's gone now," Drew cut in. The words took him by surprise, sticking in his throat. Somehow saying it out loud was allowing it to really hit home. It felt suspiciously close to the punch in the gut he felt when he was reminded that his sister was gone. Alli's eyed widened in concern; she had definitely noticed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Drew said quickly. He didn't really appreciate Alli trying to play psychologist with him; she didn't know anything about him. "And even if I did, why would I talk to you?"

"Because I'm your _girlfriend,_" Alli urged. "That's what I do! That's what I've always done, why should it be different now?"

Drew felt a slight pang out guilt pierce through his annoyance. Alli _had_ been the person he would unearth a lot of his pent up feelings to. He didn't really have anyone else in his life that he felt like he could open up to like that. But now he did.

Drew sighed.

"Look, it's been a long week," he said, bringing his voice down to a much calmer tone. "It's been really confusing for me and I just need to spend some time talking it through. I just need some support right now."

Alli smiled, touching his arm.

"I understand," she said softly.

"Great," Drew breathed. "So you'll give me some space while I deal with that?"

Alli's smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Sure," She retorted. "You call me when you're done getting all that emotional support from someone else!"

She turned on her heels and tromped out of the cafeteria again, leaving Drew more confused than ever.

Drew ambled back to the table where Gracie sat staring into the distance, just as Drew left had her. She didn't bother asking him what Alli wanted, but he answered anyway.

"She just wants to make sure you're okay," he said, nudging her fingers to get her attention. He cleared his throat when she didn't respond.

"_Are_ you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Gracie mumbled.

"Well you did a total 180-"

"-I think it was a 360 actually-"

"-and you're acting like nothing happened."

"Well, you said it yourself; life just wasn't as hard for everyone before. I mean, what actually got better after everything changed?"

Drew didn't answer. Not because he couldn't think of an answer, but because absolutely could. Just because things had gotten more difficult didn't mean that they had gotten _worse;_ that would be like saying that video games got less enjoyable when the levels got more challenging, or that playing football against a great team just wasn't as fun or rewarding. Nobody learned anything on easy mode; nobody learned anything; nobody got better than they were before.

Drew was better than he was before.

"Listen," he eventually said. "I have football practice after school. I want you to sit in the bleachers, okay?"

Gracie hunched down.

"I was just going to do homework in the library-"

"-It'll be fine, Owen's not going to be there," Drew insisted. "I just want to make sure that you're all right-"

"-I'm _fine_!"

She started anxiously playing with the barrette in her hair, chewing on her bottom lip as if to stop herself from anymore outbursts. Drew couldn't understand why his concern was making her so upset, after all, he was just trying to help. He was just left feeling even more confused than ever. He just didn't understand women.

He really wished that he had an Adam to talk to.

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oOo

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"I should've known, man – the crazy ones are always the hottest."

Drew didn't respond. He was in the middle of the change room with a dozen other football players – most of whom seemed pretty intent on trying to wind him up. He wasn't stupid enough to try and start anything when he was so outnumbered (and still aching in the ribs more that he cared to admit.)

But they just weren't letting up.

"It's basic science, dude: the freaks are always the best to get freaky with-"

"Hey, will you just shut up already!"

It wasn't Drew who finally put an end to it. It surprised him that anyone would speak up at all, but it surprised him even more when he realized who it was who finally said something.

"Jeez, Stavros, take a joke."

"I can take a joke," Riley droned, "I just can't take the same joke over and over twenty times in a row. It's getting old – we have a game to concentrate on. Save the mud-slinging for Montgomery."

He nodded to Drew, who felt himself nodding back even if he wasn't entirely sure why.

"Okay," Riley yelled, quickly breaking away from Drew's nod and focusing back on the rest of the team. "Let's go, Coach is waiting!"

Drew could tell as soon as he got outside that Gracie wasn't sitting on the bleachers. She didn't listen to him. She didn't care.

"Drew!" Armstrong yelled over when he caught sight of him.

Drew jogged over, feeling slightly anxious when he saw how concerned Armstrong looked.

"Are you all right to play?"

Drew was about to reply with "why wouldn't I be?" but stopped himself when he remembered that that's what Gracie said when he asked her if _she_ was all right. And if Drew could say it and have it be a lie, then so could she.

"I'll be fine once I warm up," Drew eventually settled on.

Armstrong didn't quite look like he believed him, but nodded anyway.

"Fine. Warm up, then help Zane work on his field goals."

Drew jogged back towards the field and up to Zane, already grabbing a football to practice with.

"Here," Drew said, taking the ball out of Zane's hands. "I've to help you practice."

"Okay, thanks," Zane replied, ushering towards the crossbar. "Shouldn't you warm up first?"

"I'll be fine, just go," Drew insisted as he knelt to place the ball down. "You don't all have to keep asking me if everything's okay, you know."

Zane didn't kick; instead the knelt down beside Drew.

"Drew, have you ever heard the term _"the lady doth protest too much"_?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, it was in a movie once, right?"

"Do you know what it means?"

"I don't know," Drew shrugged. "That the lady shouldn't complain so much, or-"

"-It basically means that the more you have to deny something, the less likely people are to believe you."

Zane glared at him knowingly. Drew wasn't sure how he could do that; Zane just seemed to _know_ things.

"So what do I do?" Drew asked.

"About what?"

"You know," Drew urged, "what do I _do_?"

"I don't know what you mean," Zane admitted.

Drew gave up; he didn't really know what he meant either. He just wanted some answers, someone who could tell him what to do.

"Hey, K.C.!" Drew heard someone yell from the benches, "your ex is here!"

Drew looked up to see K.C. run over to the sidelines where Clare had suddenly appeared. She looked upset, as if she'd been crying.

"Lover's quarrel?" Zane pondered as they both watched Clare gesticulate madly, pointing at someone on the field.

Drew. Clare was pointing at Drew.

Drew paid closer attention; she had something in her hands; something small and grey; it looked like clothes – a hoodie maybe.

Gracie's hoodie.

Drew didn't give himself time to react to it; he didn't even properly stand up before darting over to Clare. He probably looked somewhat deranged as he half-ran half-dragged himself towards her, but he didn't care; something had happened, he had to know what.

"What is it, where's Gracie?" Drew demanded breathlessly as he approached Clare and K.C.

"Can you-" Clare said to K.C., signaling at him to leave them.

"Of course," K.C. obeyed, backing away from the sidelines and giving Drew a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving.

Clare folded her arms, Gracie's little grey hoodie still in her shaking hands.

"We need to talk."

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oOo

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><p>-<em> So… Showdown. Did you all like it? I thought it was pretty solid – I'd put it right up there with season four or season ten! <em>

_- K.C. is in this chapter. I'm not okay. :(_

_In the next chapter: There once was a girl named Darcy…_


	34. A Girl Named Darcy

**Chapter 34 - A Girl named Darcy**

_"We need to talk."_

Before Drew could even process what Clare had said, she had turned around and started marching away from the rest of the team. Drew followed, still reeling, still totally unsure of what was going on. Clare lead, her arms still tightly crossed, Gracie's hoodie billowing behind her like a flag at half-mast, like some one had-

"Stop," Drew ordered. "What's going on, where's Gracie?"

Clare turned around, her once concerned face overtaken with a stubborn defiance.

"Adam," she said bluntly.

"Huh?"

"His name is Adam – not Gracie."

"Clare, _please_," Drew pleaded; he didn't care how desperate he sounded. He was desperate. He couldn't be anything else until he knew that everything was all right.

Clare sighed, her stiffness and stubborn doggedness staring to thaw.

"He's with your mom in the car," she said, waving the hoodie in the air. "I got him some better clothes after I found him-"

She stopped, the concern starting to seep back in. She seemed to be forcing herself to keep eye contact.

"You know about his arms, right?"

She grabbed her own arm unconsciously, tensing up again as she apparently remembered those scars.

"Uh, yeah," Drew admitted quietly. "You saw them?"

Clare made a scolding noise, as if Drew had asked an incredibly stupid question.

"I found him at a table with a lighter and his sleeve rolled up," she said, starting to sound hysterical. "He was-"

She stopped again, taking a few breaths to calm herself down. Drew felt himself do the same as the realization of what Clare saw Gracie doing hit him.

"She was burning?" he asked. "At _school_?"

The back of his throat started to burn, Gracie has never gotten so desperate as to have the compulsion to burn in public before, at least as far as Drew knew.

"_He_ was," Clare emphasized. "I took the lighter away though. He's still pretty shaken up."

Clare, who still looked pretty shaken up herself, stared at Drew as intently as it was possible for a human to stare. She had really blue eyes, like really, really blue eyes. It some how made her stare more foreboding. It wasn't remotely comforting or nice.

"Why are you letting this happen?" she asked quietly.

To say that Drew was taken aback was an understatement. He was totally floored; this girl, who he had spoken to maybe twice, accused Drew Torres, Drew Torres, of letting bad things happen to Gracie (or Adam, he wasn't sure in that moment.) Drew did everything to make sure that nothing bad would ever happen to that kid.

"You think this is _my_ fault?" He thundered, but Clare didn't shrink, or look apologetic for her accusations. She doubled down.

"You're his big brother; he looks up to you!" she bellowed. "He needs your support right now and instead you're here, moping over your non-existent sister!"

Drew wasn't sure if Clare was trying to hit a nerve, but she managed to do so with a startling accuracy. He dropped any attempt at civility.

"Don't pretend you know anything about my life, Clare" he spat, pointing an accusing finger at her face, "You have no idea!"

He turned and started to storm back to the direction of the football field, suddenly feeling a strong urge to tackle someone and knowing that practice was the most acceptable place to do it.

"Really, you wanna bet?" he heard Clare yell from behind him, "I haven't seen my sister in over a year!"

Drew stopped so abruptly, he was sure he was about to tip over. He didn't know that Clare had a sister. He had sort of forgotten that anyone else could have sisters.

And that sometimes they disappeared.

He turned around to see that Clare once threatening eyes were suddenly suspiciously glossy looking. She blinked furiously.

"Darcy," she whispered. "The beginning of last year she went to Kenya to help build schools. She was only supposed to be gone a semester and-"

"And she never came back," Drew finished for her.

Clare nodded.

"But the thing is – and the thing that took me a long time to come to terms with - Darcy left long before that."

She suddenly pulled Gracie's hoodie close to her chest, pulling absentmindedly at the sleeve.

"She was my best friend, you know?" she said, looking down at the bundle of grey fabric in her arms. "I know you're not supposed to say that your sister's the person you're closest to, but she really was. We could tell each other anything."

Drew felt himself nodding, part of him wanted to snatch the hoodie away from her; it was his sister's hoodie, but he overcame that urge when he saw how Clare's face twisted into something painful.

"And then something terrible happened to her," she trembled. "They think I don't know, but I'm not stupid. She snuck out the house with some friends one weekend and Darcy came home, but never came _back_. That's when she really left."

She finally looked up. Drew almost wished that she didn't. Her face was no longer contorted, but her eyes still looked pained. In the same way Gracie had giant eyes, Clare seemed to have intense ones; nothing could hide behind them.

"And suddenly she couldn't tell me everything anymore," she said in a high voice. "And she was angry all the time, and tearful and distant and… it wasn't Darcy. It wasn't her."

"And so she went to Asia?" Drew asked.

"Africa," Clare corrected. "But, no, that's not made her leave. My parents made her leave."

"Your parents sent her to Africa?" Drew echoed in disbelief. Mom and Dad may not have been the most supportive people in the world, but wouldn't send Adam so some random city in Africa (although he _still_ thought it should have been in Asia, it sounded like it should be near Hong Kong or something.)

"No," Clare sighed. "Will you just listen?"

Drew signaled for Clare to continue. Despite his decent height advantage over her he was starting to feel really small.

"My parents, well my mom, wanted the old Darcy back," Clare explained. "They tried everything; they pushed her into therapy, they sent her to brat camp, they fought with her all the time."

Drew noticed her knuckles starting to go alarmingly white as she clung closer to that hoodie.

"And she fought back," she said shakily. "She took it out on everyone. She took it out on herself."

Drew started to notice his body sinking into the damp grass, he tried to move his feet out, but the plummeting sensation didn't go away.

"She tried to do it so many times," Clare said, not having to explain what "it" was. "She slit her wrists in the girl's locker room. She tried to overdose on sleeping pills, but my dad caught her and took them bottle away before she could get it open – she clawed away at him to try and get them back. I overheard her boyfriend say that she tried to jump off the school roof. I don't know if that last one's true, but I don't doubt it."

She shuffled her feet awkwardly. Apparently the sinking feeling had reached her too. She didn't say anything for a few seconds. It gave Drew some time to let what she had told him to set in. The more he thought about it, the more it sounded like some horrible accusation.

"Why would you tell me this," he asked defensively. "Gracie wouldn't do that."

"I never thought Darcy could ever do that either," Clare warned. "But if you push someone enough, they'll eventually reach a ledge. I bet you never thought he could burn himself either, did you?"

Drew didn't answer. Apparently he didn't have to as Clare gave him a knowing nod.

"She just couldn't stay here anymore," she continued. "It was too hard, she hated my mom, Degrassi held too many bed memories. So she went to the furthest away place she could reach."

She shrugged, as if it were something minor and inconsequential. Or maybe it was like she was shaking some weight of her shoulders.

"It was the best thing to do," she said. "If she had to stay here, I'm pretty sure she would have done it. At least in Kenya she isn't being pushed to be this person who doesn't exist anymore. She isn't around, but at least she isn't _gone_."

She took a few purposeful steps towards Drew. He was fairly certain that she was going to attempt to slap some sense into him, but he didn't bother to flinch; he probably deserved it.

"So… yeah," she carried on. "I haven't seen her in over a year now. I get the odd letter, photos, sometimes phone calls, and I can tell she's changed. I don't think I'd even be able to recognize her if she ever came back, not that I think she ever will. But she's happy – and she's _alive_."

Suddenly Clare's story didn't seem like an accusation anymore. It felt like a desperate plea.

"You either let go of Gracie and accept Adam, or you try and hold onto Gracie and eventually lose them _both_," She urged. "Let her go, Drew."

Drew almost wanted to reply with "but I don't want to" but then he heard how whiny and childish in his head, he simply nodded instead. Clare smiled weakly.

"Here," she said, handing Drew the hoodie. "I don't know what you want to do with this."

"I don't know," Drew admitted. "I'll ask Adam."

Clare's weak smile turned into a full one.

"He's in the car up front if you want to see him," she said taking a few steps back before turning to walk back towards the school. Drew fixed the inside out sleeves of the hoodie, noting the creases on the left side where it had been rolled up. He tried to flatten them out, hoping that doing so would somehow fix everything, but he knew that it wouldn't work. He knew only one thing was going to work.

"Clare!"

She quickly stopped and turned back around at Drew's call.

"Do you miss her?" he asked anxiously.

Clare looked down and took a few careful breaths before answering.

"Every day."

.

oOo

.

Drew was stopped in his tracks when he saw Mom and Adam in the car. She had his arm around him. He had his head on her shoulder.

They both looked exhausted.

He felt himself tiptoe toward the car, although he was pretty sure that neither Mom nor Adam would have noticed him even if he had brought a marching band with him.

It wasn't until he slammed the car door shut that either of them even turned around.

"I thought you had practice until six," Mom said, turning around as Adam pulled his head off her shoulder.

"Yeah, well I figured this was more important," Drew shrugged before turning to his brother, not his sister or anyone else, his brother. "Hey, Adam."

Adam gave a tired smile. Drew returned it with bursting enthusiasm.

"I'm really glad you're here," he said, ruffling Adam's already unruly hair.

Adam made a feeble show of swatting Drew's arm away, but didn't bother to pull away or turn his back on him.

Drew threw the grey hoodie on the floor beside his feet and pulled his seatbelt on.

"Let's go home."

.

oOo

.

* * *

><p><em>- Oh Drew, Kenya's not in Asia – Asia's a country, silly (it's next to Lower Asia!)<em>

_In the next chapter: 7am waking up in the morning, gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs! _


	35. Good Friday

_We are now past the 100,000 words mark. Yikes. If it all goes as planned, it shouldn't break 200,000, but knowing how carried away I can get, you just never know. But thank you to everybody who's stuck with this story that long – you are all amazing and I appreciate ever last one of you. You rock. _

_The Shawshank Redemption doesn't belong to me (nor does Drew's unique opinion of it!)_

* * *

><p>Chapter 35 - Good Friday<p>

"Is that all of them?"

Mom's voice was in that dangerously high place that always made Drew feel incredibly guilty even when he didn't do anything to cause it. It allowed every word she said to seamlessly travel though the wall that separated Adam's bedroom where she stood to Drew's own bedroom where he sat, failing to do his homework. He could hear every sharp word, ringing like a shrill bell.

"What about the bedside table?" he heard her ask. "Anything over there?"

"No," Adam mumbled. The contrast between his voice and Mom's was so drastic, it sounded like he was in a completely different room - a different _house_ even.

"So just the two in the desk drawer, the one in your backpack and the two in the wardrobe?"

"I think so," Adam said. "They come in a pack of six, I think."

"Well, where's the other one then?" Mom demanded, but sounding strangely unthreatening. "I have five lighters here."

"It's probably still lying on the table at school where I was…"

Adam trailed off. Drew could hear the floor creak as Mom presumably moved nearer to Adam (who Drew was pretty sure was just sitting on the bed.)

"And I guess," Mom started to say, her voice creeping up even more. "I guess I'll take the box away too."

"Yeah."

The floor started creaking again as Mom apparently picked up the box of clothes and headed out the room.

"And Adam?" she said.

"Uh-huh?"

There was a long pause before Mom said anything. Drew could feel himself lean closer to the wall, crossing that line from _just happened to hear_ to _actively eavesdropping_.

"Leave the door open," she said flatly before her footsteps disappeared down the stairs.

Drew heard the heavy_ flump_ as Adam collapsed onto the bed. He considered getting up and talking to him, but he figured that Adam was having a bad enough day without Drew saying the wrong thing and screwing it up more. He considered calling Alli, but he just couldn't be bothered talking to her. And the homework was definitely not getting done anytime soon.

He eventually got up and trailed down the stairs to see what Dad was watching on the television. Dad was always the best person to be around when Drew didn't want to talk.

"Hey," Drew called out as he walked into the living room. "What you watching?"

"Just waiting for the movie to come on," Dad answered, moving his bowl of popcorn off the space on the couch for Drew. "_The_ _Shawshank Redemption_, you seen it?"

Drew shrugged, he'd never heard of it. It sounded pretty heavy.

"It's good," Dad insisted. "Got nominated for a ton of awards."

Drew still wasn't convinced; movies that got nominated for a lot of awards usually had a lot of talking and crying and nazis and stuff. They weren't typically cheerful.

"It's the ultimate feel good movie," Dad persisted, offering Drew a handful of the popcorn. "You couldn't ask for a better cure for the blues."

Drew looked behind the couch, though the archway and into the kitchen where Mom was sitting quietly with a cup of coffee in her hands, half a dozen lighters scattered around her on the table and a box of her non-daughter's old clothes by her feet. He shoved a whole handful of popcorn into his mouth, deciding that even if the movie was overly-talky, that it was at least a distraction from everything else. And besides, he could do with watching a feel good movie, even if it was one of those boring Oscar-bait films.

"Oh, hey that dude's in _Anchorman_," he exclaimed when the film eventually started. "Now _that's_ a feel good movie!"

"Yeah," Dad grinned. "I'm sure _Anchorman_ is just as much of a seminal classic as _Shawshank Redemption_."

"Uh-huh," Drew nodded, reaching for some more popcorn. "Is that Morgan Freeman?"

Dad was wrong. _The Shawshank Redemption_ was probably the most depressing movie Drew had ever seen; he couldn't even get to the end it was so dismal. First the dude from _Anchorman_ (who just so happened to be named Andy, which just ended up making Drew unreasonably angry) got put in prison for something he didn't even do, then he got beat up and gang raped by a bunch of prisoners, then they wouldn't let Morgan Freeman out of jail (even though he was _Morgan Freeman_). They wouldn't even let them fix up the library (and Drew never thought he'd find himself rooting for a library). Drew had finally had enough by the time the old man prisoner committed suicide; it reminded him far too much of what Clare had told him. There was no way life could magically get better after that; too many horrible things had happened – things that couldn't be undone or taken back. Even if the dude from _Anchorman_ did get out of jail, it wouldn't change the fact that he was beaten up and abused and wrongfully imprisoned for at least ten years. The only good thing in his life was a poster with a hot chick on it; what kind of miserable existence was _that_?

It was basically the worst movie ever made. It did absolutely nothing to make Drew feel any better. He'd probably have felt less miserable if he sat in the kitchen and watch Mom stare sadly at a box for an hour instead.

He silently excused himself from the living room and tromped back up the stairs, trying desperately hard not to think about all the things he had just seen; it just served to remind him of how hard everything was; people being unfairly caged with no means of escape, then getting beaten up and harassed, feeling so alone that the only option is to go back to the little halfway house and-

He stopped himself. It was just a movie; it wasn't real.

But Clare's warning was. Drew's life was. Adam's "contraband" sitting on the kitchen table was.

Maybe Drew would call Alli after all; she could talk about something stupid and meaningless and Drew could feel distracted for a little while-

"Hey."

He stopped. Adam's door was still obediently open, but Drew wasn't expecting anyone to pipe up through it.

"Anything good on TV?" Adam asked, sitting hunched up on the bed and looking impossibly small.

"Some prison movie," Drew shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. He wasn't sure how close he was allowed to get, it still felt like there was an invisible barrier that had been put up. "What've you been doing?"

"Sitting. Thinking."

Drew shuffled over slightly, moving from the doorframe to the wall beside the door.

"What about?"

Adam didn't answer straight away; he appeared to be studying Drew, which just made him feel weirdly exposed. He tried to look as normal as possible, but realized that he had no idea how to do that.

"Do you ever think about the future?" Adam finally asked.

"No," Drew scoffed, taking a couple of steps further into the bedroom. "Why would I spend my time thinking about things that haven't even happened yet?"

"Oh," Adam said quietly, turning into himself even further. Drew felt himself move back toward the wall again.

"Do _you_ ever think about the future?" he asked cautiously.

Adam nodded.

"All the time."

Drew considered pushing himself off the wall and wandering over to the bed where Adam sat all curled up, but something was stopping him. He wasn't sure _what _but he had the strangest feeling that gravity was trying to push him out of Adam's room and back into his own. He wanted to say that Adam thinking about the future was probably a good thing in his case; at least he thought he _had_ a future. But that seemed like a dangerous thing to say, and he didn't want to put any weird ideas into Adam's head that might make him think otherwise.

"Like, I have to go back to self-injury therapy now," Adam said without prompt. "And it's group therapy, and I _hate_ group therapy."

"Well you wouldn't have to go if you weren't being so stupid in the first place," Drew retorted. "You promised that you wouldn't do that again."

"Well _you _promised that you'd have my back from now on!" Adam snapped.

Drew felt himself sink into the wall slightly.

"You know what? I'm sorry," Drew muttered. "But I'm trying my best here."

"So am I," Adam said quietly.

Drew wasn't expecting the words, or for them to hit him right in the chest. He couldn't even properly explain _why_ they hit him so hard_. _He pushed the feeling down to join all the others and cleared his throat.

"So," he said perhaps just a little too loudly, "why do you hate group?"

"They're all just so _judgy_," Adam groaned. "Nobody wants to be the most messed-up person there, so they make it this weird competition to see who can be the least dysfunctional person, and I _always_ lose."

"Really?" Drew said, actually committing to pushing himself off the wall. "Because you're like the most functional person I know."

"No I'm not-"

"Name one person that we both know who's actually _normal_. Go on, name _one_."

Adam tried to look like he was concentrating, but couldn't quite stop himself from smiling.

"Well it's not fair to put me on the spot like that!"

He unhunched. Drew finally stepped over the threshold and crashed onto the bed beside his brother.

"Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked.

"I was never really _mad_ at you," Adam said quietly. "I was just…"

He starting pulling on a non-existent piece of lint on the comforter.

"I don't know," he muttered. "I guess sometimes I feel like you don't take me seriously. Like as a guy."

Drew felt his stomach flip over. He thought about how quickly he was willing to go back to the way things were. How quickly he had failed. He didn't really feel brave enough to respond.

They both just sat there, painfully aware that the words were hanging in mid-air, bleeding out and causing a growing tension as they remained unaddressed. It went on much longer than what was socially acceptable, turning into a weird game of silence chicken. Once it felt like a competition, it seemed a lot easier for Drew to win. And he did.

"Like, you're always trying to hug me and stuff," Adam blurted out.

"Well what's wrong with that?" Drew asked defensively.

"What guys do _you_ hug?"

"Well guys don't really hug-"

"-See?" Adam exclaimed pointing manically. "This is _exactly_ what I'm talking about. It's not allowed."

"It _used_ to be," Drew said before he could work out if it was a good idea or not. "And you never got huffy about it before. So, what, was that all just an act or something?"

"No, but-"

"So why was it okay then, but not okay now?"

"Because… I don't _know_," Adam admitted.

Drew was a little dumbfounded. Adam always had an answer for everything - it was one of his most annoying traits. It was usually Drew who didn't know his own feelings. He wasn't sure he liked it the other way around.

"It's just…" Adam sighed, "it's complicated."

"I hadn't noticed," Drew deadpanned.  
><em><br>_Adam laughed, chasing all the tension away.

"So…" Drew began carefully, "It's not that you hate me?"

"Of course I don't hate you," Adam scoffed before taking a deep breath and more sincere expression. "You're kind of my favorite person."

As soon as he said it, Drew was sure he wanted to take it back. He had tensed up so tightly that Drew was sure that something should snap inside. It must have taken a lot from him to open up like that. Drew couldn't imagine how hard it must have been to open up like that, apart from the fact that he could totally imagine it.

"Yeah," Drew said, his voice sounding strangely unsteady, "you're my favorite person too."

Drew didn't let the words sit for too long. He pushed himself off the bed before Adam could get all "guy defensive" at the mushyness and headed for the door, leaving the conversation on a high note.

"Leave the door-"

"-Got it," Drew nodded before slinking into him own room.

He collapsed into his own bed and stared at nothing. His mind wandered to Friday, a day he wasn't particularly looking forward to. It was probably going to be rough. Drew suddenly found himself remembering why he didn't think about the future. Because Drew knew that no amount of good could make up for all that bad.

It was going to be just like The Shawshank Redemption.

.

oOo

.

Drew was convinced that Mom was driving to school much slower than usual; that car journey seemed to take forever.

Usually Drew wouldn't mind taking a long time to get to school (it just meant more time before he had to get to class), but he was feeling particularly anxious; he had no idea what was in store when he walked into those hallways, but he figured that it probably wasn't going to be good.

Mom kept taking deep, assertive breaths, as if she were about to say something important, but she never actually did. She just sighed instead. Drew found himself doing the same thing; he was sure that he was somehow slowly deflating. Adam didn't join in; he was already pretty deflated.

It wasn't until Mom pulled up to the school that she actually said anything.

"Remember I'm taking you to counseling straight after school," she said, turning to Adam in the passenger seat.

"I know."

"And Drew, Dad will pick you up."

"I know."

"Okay," she said, clenching and unclenching her hands on the steering wheel. She seemed as if she was about to say "have a great day" just like she always did, but instead she just trailed off.

"Well," she started, "I'll see you then."

"Sure," Adam said, staring at the school entrance.

"Yeah," Drew added, hoping it would somehow be useful.

She took a deep breath again, making Adam stop as he made his way out of the car. She sat, mouth slightly open as Adam waited for her say what she was going to say.

"You should go," she said quietly. "You don't want to be late."

Adam shrugged, muttering something that Drew couldn't quite hear and made his way out of the car, Drew following very close behind.

"Stay with me," Drew murmured as they walked quickly into the lobby. Nobody said anything, or even noticed them walking down the hallway; they were all too busy with other things.

Drew was so busy watching the people not looking out for them, that he somehow managed to lead them both to the people who were.

Drew didn't know where Clare and Ghoulsworthy's lockers were, but he had never seem them hanging around his or Adam's before, so he could only assume that they had been waiting for them.

Adam made a determined beeline straight to them, leaving Drew to run behind him to catch up.

"Hey," Adam said, nodding rigidly, trying, and failing, to be casual.

"Hey," Ghoulsworthy echoed nonchalantly. "We missed you yesterday."

Adam looked down at his feet as he shifted his weight between them.

"Yeah, I uh-"

"Glad you're back," Ghouls- _Eli_, said, half-smiling.

"Really glad," Clare added, throwing her arms tightly around Adam and pulling him in for a hug.

Drew felt very aware that he was just standing there, watching as three friends talked to each other (and as Adam gave Eli a strangely guilty glance after Clare hugged him.) But nobody told him to leave (and he didn't particularly want to) so he found himself tagging along with the three of them as they walked down the hallway together.

"So," Eli said, "I thought about what you said about Clara."

"Oh?" Clare said, titling her head.

"I've made her a little less Theda Bara and a little more Mary Pickford."

"The girl with the curls?" Clare asked.

"I don't know," Eli sighed, "I guess I just have a thing for curls."

Drew had no idea what they were talking about, at all, but was glad that they were at talking about something nice and normal (or at least as nice and normal as someone like Ghoulsworthy could manage.)

"Hey."

They were stopped by Alli, smiling sweetly at Drew, Sav standing behind her.

"Mind if we join you?" she asked. "It feels like we haven't talked in forever."

Drew didn't even answer before she slipped under his arm, interlocking her fingers with his. He felt like saying thank you to her, but for what he wasn't sure. Sav, towering over all of them, stood behind Drew and Adam.

"So, Adam," he began, "I learned the lead part _Paisley Jacket_. You still remember the bass line?"

"Uh, yeah," Adam said, apparently unsure of what was going on, "sure."

"Cause I was cleaning up my volcano ash and I was thinking "man, I miss being in a band" and then I remembered that you play bass."

"Uh-huh?" Adam managed to say, still sounding confused (Drew was still stuck on "volcano ash.")

"So…" Sav continued, "If you ever want start up a band, or just jam or whatever-"

"Hey, guys!"

Jenna beamed at them all, K.C.'s hand tightly grasped into hers.

"Hi K.C.," Clare nodded, "_Jenna_."

Clare said _Jenna_ the same way Drew did; he knew there was a reason he liked her.

Jenna ignored Clare's tone and stood on the other side of Alli. K.C. high-fived Drew and joined Sav to become the pair of giants in the back. The eight of them started walking down the hallway again.

"Oh my god," Jenna piped in. "Did you hear what Dave Turner did in M.I.?"

"No, what?" Alli asked eagerly.

"So he shows up to class in his underwear-"

"-What?"

"-No, that's not all," Jenna continued. "He's in these little boxers with the hearts on them and starts doing, like, _lunges_ on the exercise balls. In front of Miss Oh!"

"Oh my god," Alli gasped through laughter. "I love Dave, but he's an idiot sometimes."

Drew ignored the "I love Dave" part and laughed along with everyone else. He appreciated them all in that moment, even _Jenna_. Especially Jenna, since she was the one making everyone laugh.

He was starting to think that maybe things weren't going to be as awful as he thought. He looked over to Adam, who still seemed to be talking it all in. Drew nudged him on the arm.

"Wow," he said, smirking, "that's quite some army you got there."

* * *

><p><em>- I debated putting Jenna "We played poker once" Middleton in this chapter. But I kept her in, because, unlike Drew, I don't actually hate poor Jenna! Also "we walked down the hallways once as an unspoken symbol of support and solidarity" would probably be a weird thing to say to Becky.<em>

_In the next chapter: Fire. Lots of fire._


	36. Burn Baby Burn

_I finished this chapter during finals. I am not a wise person…_

_This chapter is named after the Ash song (not, y'know, Disco Inferno)_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "My Body is a Cage" (2)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 36 - Burn Baby Burn<strong>

When Drew was fourteen and Gracie thirteen, Dad took them to see the midnight showing of _The Dark Knight_. They took their sleeping bags and thermoses full of hot chocolate and waited in the line outside the movie theatre, anticipating being the first to see the film they had talked about non-stop for months. They were second in line, behind a small group of die-hard Batman fans elaborately dressed in full costume. Drew and Gracie got their pictures taken with them and Drew still had the photos in a drawer somewhere.

He considered giving them to Adam for his bonfire. He really did.

But they were some of his favourite pictures. And they were _his_ pictures too. And it wasn't like they weren't _hurting_ anyone by being in a drawer somewhere.

Drew got out of bed just as Eli had pulled up to the house in his creepy car and watched out his bedroom window as Adam jumped in. They were going to some place that meant something to Eli; something really important apparently. Clare wasn't invited, neither was Drew. Not that it mattered anyway; he was invited to the bonfire and that was the most important part. He spied The Box sitting in the corner of his room; the one full of clothes to burn; the one that he and Adam had to all but wrestle off of Mom the evening before. She seemed to think that is was more charitable to donate them – Adam disagreed.

Drew forced a yawn in an attempt to wake up his face before dragging himself to the closet to pick out his own clothes. He felt like he hadn't had nearly enough sleep in the past week. As he opened the door, he was stirred into further alertness by the duffle bag rolling out of his closet; taking some odd shoes with it. And jolted into _complete_ alertness when he remembered what was inside.

He had almost forgotten that Clare had given him Gracie's clothes. He had shoved them in an unused duffle bag on Thursday evening, unsure of what he was supposed to do with them; he was pretty sure that Adam didn't want them back, but he was hesitant about giving them to Mom, fearing that it may just be the tipping point to tears. But now he had a whole box that was just for Gracie's clothes. He could have very easily thrown them in with the rest of them, letting them turn into firewood.

But something was stopping him.

They weren't by any means some of his favorite clothes. And they definitely weren't _his_ clothes. And he wasn't entirely sure that they weren't hurting anyone by being in a closet somewhere. Besides, he'd seen enough movies to know that keeping things secretly hidden in a duffle bag in the back of a closet meant that you were probably a serial killer or something.

He opened the bag up, pulling out the grey hoodie Clare had given him that day by the football field. He never noticed how _small_ Gracie's clothes were before. On a whim, he pulled down one of his own hoodies (red-and-white; his old St. Catherine's colors – he wasn't sure why he still kept it, it was one of those things from his old life that he couldn't really wear anymore) from a hanger and flattened it on the floor, layering the smaller one over it.

The shoulders were where he noticed the biggest difference. Gracie's dwarfed underneath his. It reminded him of the poster that used to hang in his elementary school principal's office (he had seen her office so many times that he was sure that he had committed the entire room to memory.) A black and white picture of a girl in pigtails, sitting on a swing with her head hanging down; her face hidden. Underneath it read:

_"The weight of the world should not rest on such narrow shoulders"_

Mom had told him that it was about child welfare, Drew had always thought that it meant that weak people shouldn't try to lift stuff that was too heavy for them (because the skinny girl on the swing certainly would have dropped anything heavy; maybe that's why she looked so sad – she had already dropped something and felt bad about it.) But he was pretty sure that he understood it better now; people with big shoulders had to carry the weight of the world for the smaller people; it was their duty. It all made sense.

He found himself, out of simple curiosity, wandering over to Adam's room to get one of _his_ hoodies to add to the pile. Just to see.

It was pretty obvious that Adam's hoodie wasn't nearly as small as Gracie's. Drew was certain that he could probably fit into it relatively well. It definitely didn't have narrow shoulders. Gracie's hoodie seemed unfairly outmatched, like the others were ganging up on it somehow. It was just so _little_ compared to everyone else's. He wasn't sure why that thought bothered him so much, or why he suddenly had the overwhelming desire to protect a piece of clothing that no one was ever going to wear, but he found himself carefully wrapping his old hoodie over Gracie's before putting them both back in the duffle bag, that way if anyone, for any reason, looked inside, they'd just see his old school clothes and think nothing of it.

There could be other bonfires, he supposed. It wasn't like fifteen years of history could be destroyed in a single afternoon. It would probably take two or three afternoons to get the job done properly; they could use the clothes another day. And if not, it wasn't like anyone else knew that they were there – nobody would be looking for them.

So he quietly pushed the bag to back of the closet, next to all the other forgotten things.

.

oOo

.

Dad was telling Mom one of his classically unfunny jokes when Drew finally came down the stairs.

"-So then he says: I'd love another omelette, but I don't have mush room!"

Mom didn't even crack a pity-smile. She had stirred her latte so much that the foam had dissolved and she was left staring at the dull brown pool in her "Super Mom" mug. There were a handful of photos on the table that Drew couldn't see clearly, but could wager a good guess as to what they were. Neither she nor Dad had seemed to notice Drew there.

"They're only clothes, Audra."

"Did I ever tell you how I almost destroyed my first wedding dress?" Mom said, not looking up or bothering to see if Dad even answered the question.

"I had just left Scott, I was back at my parent's house with a one-year-old and a car filled with everything I own - _everything_. It all fit in my tiny '93 Ford Aspire. Scott still had the house at that point, he had moved his little blonde pregnant girlfriend in and here I was heartbroken and homeless with a baby. And there was this old wood chipper just sitting in the backyard. It had been there since I was a kid; and I had seen my dad use it so many times that I could operate it with my eyes shut. I was _this_ close to turning a nine hundred dollar dress into confetti. But I didn't, because sometimes they're not "just clothes." It was my dad of all people who talked me out of it. He said Gracie might want to wear it one day, so I kept it. For her."

She lifted her coffee mug to her mouth as if to take a drink from it, then sighed and put it back down without taking a single sip.

"Not that I ever expected her to wear it; it's frilly and poofy and _very_ of it's time. But… I don't know, knowing that it's never going to be worn again, or that I'll never pass down my grandmother's ring, or go shopping for wedding dres-"

She had finally spotted Drew, who suddenly felt very uncomfortable for having heard something he clearly wasn't supposed to. He started readjusting the flowers in the vase on the cabinet, hoping in absolute vain that Mom would think he had been too distracted to hear.

"Do you want the car this afternoon?" She said calmly, apparently wanting to pretend that Drew was too distracted to hear too.

"Is that okay?" Drew asked, sitting down and stealing a pear from the fruit bowl. "I know this isn't your favorite thing-"

"No," she admitted, "but it has to be done, I get that."

She wrapped her hands around her cup again, but didn't even lift it halfway before surrendering it back to the table.

"Then why don't you come?" Drew said.

Mom rolled her eyes.

"Adam doesn't want me there-"

"Sure he does," Drew insisted. "He probably just thinks _you_ don't want to be there."

"Of _course_ I want to be there," she tutted. "He's my son and this is important to him-"

She stopped herself, and Drew knew exactly why. Mom never made the effort to call Adam "he" when she knew he wasn't around to hear, and she definitely never used the word "son", especially not genuinely.

"I- I mean," she stammered, trying to compose herself, "I want to show my support. We all do."

"Absolutely," Dad chimed in. "We'll all go together."

He nudged Mom's fingers, still wrapped around her coffee mug and she finally smiled. Dad was the only person in the world who was fluent in Audra Torres. He'd really have to teach Drew one day.

"And you know what else this means," Dad said, pushing himself up from the table.

"What?" Drew asked.

"It means that I don't have to worry about leaving the car keys with you all afternoon."

.

oOo

.

Mom was nervous, Drew could tell. She didn't stop talking the entire car journey, and she didn't even seem to be talking to anyone in particular, or about any particular topic for very long, she just seemed to like talking.

"-I heard that we're supposed to get a downpour next week," she rambled, staring out of the window, the photograph she brought clamped tightly in her hand. "I said was going to tidy up the patio, but I suppose I could get a start on the PTA minutes instead-"

Drew let her words stream in and out of his consciousness. He had promised Alli that they could spend some time together at the weekend and she was incredibly understanding when he had to cancel; she knew how much this meant to Adam. And Drew. Still, he felt like he's have to find a way to make it up to her somehow. He hadn't been the best boyfriend as of late.

_"-But they've finally decided, after two years of meetings, that it isn't financially viable to rebuild Lakehurst High School, can you believe it? And you know that that means that the classroom sizes at Degrassi are going to stay ridiculously high. They don't have the faculty numbers to facilitate that many students-"_

Then again, he hadn't been the best anything as of late. He had been a pretty pathetic boyfriend, and a sub-par football player, and really, really poor excuse for a brother. At least he was making for the last one a little bit. He figured that since he was redeeming himself on the brother front, he would finally have a bit of time to work on his boyfriend skills. Alli deserved better than a guy who was too busy to be with her half the time and totally distracted the other half.

_"-I mean, they can run the gifted program, and build a "state-of-the-art radio station", but they can't hire another math teacher"-_

He wasn't too sure about the football. He didn't look forward to the day that Owen was allowed back on the team, and he was pretty sure that Riley was going to make sure that he'd never get to start as QB while he was still captain. At least K.C. and Zane were cool.

_"-I don't know what that man's thinking half the time. How he became principal I'll never know-"_

At least no one ever expected him to be a good student.

"We're here."

Dad pulled over by the front gates of the ravine, turning around to look at Drew in the back seat.

"You ready, champ?"

Drew nodded dutifully, pulling the clothes out of the top of the box and jumping out of the car.

Adam, Eli and Clare were in their own little world, completely unaware that they weren't alone anymore. Drew had to override the urge to sneak up on Adam, reasoning that startling someone inches away from a bonfire was probably not the best idea. Instead he let out a loud "whoop".

Adam looked straight past him, setting his sights onto Mom.

"You _force_ her to come?" he asked. He looked surprised, but not necessarily displeased.

"Nope," said Drew bluntly before Adam could argue. "If we're going to do this then we have some ugly-ass clothes to burn."

He handed Adam the white top (he had to admit, it really _was_ quite ugly), keeping the blue hoodie as his own.

"After you," said Adam, nodding towards Drew.

Drew didn't know why Adam wanted him to go first; Adam had seemed quite determined to burn everything as quickly as possible. Maybe he was testing him. Or maybe he just needed little bit of encouragement.

"Alright," Drew sighed. He could see Mom and Dad closing the gap on Adam's other side, completing the group.

A blast of heat from the bonfire hit him square in the face as the flames grew higher. Nothing was going to last long in it, especially not clothes so small and unwanted. He forced himself to remember that there was a very good reason that they were unwanted and swung the hoodie towards the fire, Adam following suit.

And then they both just… let go. He didn't even realise how heavy the clothes really were until he dropped them.

The arms of the hoodie were the first to burn. Drew considered if this meant something significant before instantly dismissing the idea as stupid. No one else seemed to have such ridiculous thoughts; all looking at the fire contentedly, like they were watching a Christmas film or something. Mom silently gave Adam the photograph without any sign of hesitation or regret.

"Are you sure?" Adam asked in a strange quiet voice. Showing Mom the photo again as if to check with her that she was aware of what she had given him.

She quite _say_ yes, but she nodded her head towards the flames and that was good enough for Drew.

He could feel the smoke starting to burn in the back of his throat and tried to quietly clear it away. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, waiting for Adam to throw the photo into the fire along with everything else.

But Adam didn't make any move to throw the picture it in the fire. If anything, he was holding onto it even tighter. He shook it a few times like it was a Polaroid, or maybe an etch-a-sketch; Drew supposed it depended of if he wanted to keep it or erase it.

"Not ready to burn it?" Drew asked, although it felt less like he was a question and more like he was providing a perfectly acceptable reason.

"It's still me," Adam said, glancing over at Drew, and for just a _fraction_ of a second, pulled the same face as the girl in the photo. Drew didn't know what to make of it, so he just… let it go. He ruffled Adam's head and put his arm around him. Adam didn't shake Drew off like he typically did; instead he tilted his head so that the weight of it was resting on Drew's shoulder. It was a hug, maybe not the kind of hug Drew was used to; it was different kind of hug, but a hug nonetheless.

Mom moved herself closer to Adam, for a second Drew thought that she was going to snatch the picture back, but instead she kissed her son on the cheek. Usually Adam would pull a face, or at least roll his eyes, but he didn't resist or complain, even with his friends standing right there. None of them took their eyes off the photograph, all of them were wordlessly looking at the photo of the little girl that Drew so adored; the one he'd do anything for; the one he'd do everything in his power to protect; the one who could comfort him without having to utter a single word. His little sister.

She was really gone.

He pulled Adam in tighter, swaying them both slightly, like some dual-pendulum. It probably looked weird to everyone else, but he didn't particularly care. He found the rocking motion oddly comforting. He could hear Mom sigh from Adam's other side.

"We can go above the ears."

He felt his shoulder twinge slightly as Adam lifted himself off of it. He hadn't noticed how heavy Adam's head had been; Drew wondered what could possibly be in there to make it weigh so much.

"What?" Adam said, looking at her blankly.

"I said we would compromise with the hair and this is me keeping my word," Mom said, business-like. "We can go above the ears if you want."

Adam smiled at her in a way Drew hadn't seen in a long time. He wasn't sure what it was about destroying the clothes that just made everything feel better and new; he knew on a logical level that people at school were still going to be jerks, and that Mom still had a lot of coming around to do, but there was just something about watching all the bad memories turn to ash which just made the future look so much brighter. He was starting to regret keeping the little grey hoodie now. Throwing it in the fire would have probably been the best thing to do with it. Now Drew had a girl's hoodie hiding in his bedroom closet; he was pretty sure most normal teenage boys didn't have such problems. He tried to push the idea out of his head and back into his closet and watched as the clothes started to curl up into little black balls of nothingness. No one said anything, or even dared to move; they all just stood there, watching everything burn away. There was something quite hypnotic about it.

"Um," Clare softly chimed in after a very long time, "should someone say something?"

"Do you-" Mom said, gently rubbing her hand between Adam's shoulder blades. He cleared his throat.

"So," Adam started. "We're gathered here today – no, that sounds like a wedding. Let me start again."

He looked at the photograph that was still in his free hand, staring at the kid watching him with her big Gracie eyes. He stayed looking at it, like he was talking directly to her; trying to offer her some sort of explanation for a situation she didn't quite understand yet.

"So, uh, I was a really happy kid," Adam began again. "I can't really remember ever feeling all that sad or confused or anything. I was just being myself and people thought it was fine, or cute, I guess, I don't know. And then it stopped being okay to just be myself; I had to act like someone else. And that sucked. And then I stopped even looking like myself. And that _really_ sucked."

"And I tried really hard to be that person, to be Gracie, but nothing I did worked. Because I was always Adam; I didn't always have the name, or the words, but that's who I always was. I didn't change, everything else did. And I don't _have_ to change, everybody else does."

Adam stopped, looking over to Clare who gave him understanding smile. Drew had no idea why. He wondered how true that really was, if Gracie really was Adam the whole time, or if something changed along the way. He tried to imagine a little kid Adam, with short messy hair and grass-stained jeans and wondered if it really would have all been the same; if he'd still be the hero big brother, if he'd still be the proud keeper of secrets and magic healer of obviously hurt knees and less obviously hurt feelings. Or even just a non-trans teenage Adam, with long awkward limbs, towering over Drew, much to his annoyance; would he still be needed for something as complicated as girl advice or as simple as a hug every now and then? He had to resign himself to the fact that he'd never have answers to those questions, and that he'd just have to accept that even if Adam wasn't necessarily his yesterday, he was his today and he was going to make damn well sure that he'd be his tomorrow too.

"So I guess it's not that we're saying goodbye," Adam said. "But it's not hello either, it's like… well it's like…"

"Welcome back?" Drew offered.

"No," Adam said carefully, "that's not it. It's nice, but it's not _it_."

"Salutations?" Eli suggested.

Adam paused for a second, shaking the photo again.

"I suppose it's sort of a salutation," he said, "a little bit, but-"

"-Maybe there isn't really a good word for it," Mom said, wiping a stray fleck of ash from Adam's cheek. "Maybe it just… is. And maybe we just have to accept that, even if it's challenging sometimes."

The ash was gone, but Mom's hand stayed, framing over one side of Adam's face.

"Yeah, maybe we do," Adam whispered. Drew wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear it, but smiled to himself anyway, watching as the embers fireflied up out of the dying flames and fizzed in the air.

Everything started to fade. The overwhelming smell of smoke started to settle until it began to feel like the few seconds after blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. Drew even had the ridiculous urge to make a wish, but he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted more that anything else in the world. Or if what he wanted was particularly fair or reasonable. He settled on wishing that the worst of everything would be over now.

He felt like that wasn't too much to ask for.

.

oOo

.

* * *

><p><em>In the next chapter: Drew finally decides to spend some time with Alli. Of course, being Drew, it doesn't all go according to plan.<em>


	37. Drop Everything

Bittersweet Symphony. I wasn't ready. I'll never be ready. Hope you guys are all okay.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 37 – Drop Everything<strong>

_The Dot. 7pm sharp. Share my milkshake? - A xx_

_Share my milkshake_. That was code for sexytimes. Or at least making out. Either way it was awesome.

Drew had read the text message over at least a dozen times and it still made him grin, then he imagined Alli's impish face when she sent it and it make him smile even more. He had a lot of reasons to smile; he was really looking forward to where he and Alli were going to go now. He couldn't help but feel that maybe, just _maybe_, he had been using Alli as a makeshift therapist. He'd be the first to admit that there was the slight possibility he had been using Alli as someone to carry his feelings for him when he wasn't willing to do it himself. But he was _dealing_ with is feelings now, and Mom and Adam weren't at each other's throats all the time, and Adam was being ever-so-slightly less defensive about everything so Drew didn't feel like he was walking on unintentionally emasculating eggshells around him all the time. Life was pretty good for a change; he was at ease. And now Alli could finally just be his _girlfriend_ and not have to haul around all of his emotional crap for him.

The date was supposed to be the day before, but Alli got herself detention for trying to sneak books out of the library. She had probably maxed-out her lending limit; it was a very Alli thing to do. It was adorable.

Only he really could have _used_ a date will Alli the day before, considering it was finally the big Montgomery game and he was benched. Again. Armstrong said it was so Drew could have more time for his ribs to recover, but he was sure it was because Riley had been doing a better job in practice. Owen got on first team over him. _Owen_. Drew didn't even bother going to the game. They won without him anyway and it bothered him more than it probably should have; his team winning was a good thing, even if he wasn't there to help make it happen. He could have used someone to talk it through with-

No. He wasn't doing that anymore. Alli was his girlfriend, not his shrink. They were going to talk about nice, normal, boyfriend-girlfriend things, like their common interests and funny stories and-

"Is Mom in?"

Drew could just see the top of Adam's head as he quietly peered through the bedroom door. He had apparently managed to sneak back into the house without anyone noticing. It wasn't fair that Adam had better stealth skills than Drew; Drew was the one who needed to sneak out the most.

"Nope. School board meeting."

"Oh," said Adam bluntly. "Good."

The rest of him appeared from behind the door. He was wearing a black stripy hoodie that Drew didn't recognize, but decided that he quite liked (on Adam at least – it was a bit dark and baggy for Drew's taste.)

"Cool hoodie. Is it new?"

"Sort of," Adam said cryptically. He was about to breeze past when a distinctive smell pulled Drew into a frenzied alertness. He followed Adam into the hallway, stopping him before he could reach his room.

"Why do you smell like cigarettes?" Drew asked vehemently. "Have you been _smoking_?"

"No!" Adam yelped perhaps just a little too quickly, tugging at the hoodie he was wearing. "It's Eli's."

"Uh-huh. Why are you wearing Eli's hoodie?"

"He spilled guacamole on mine; his dad's washing it," Adam shrugged, "and I wouldn't have enough clothes to make it through the week otherwise."

"Huh?"

"Have you never noticed that I only have, like, three changes of clothes?"

Drew hadn't. Adam's clothes all looked the same to him, probably, he was just realizing, because they _were_ all the same if he only had a handful of changes. Apparently Ghoulsworthy had noticed this before him, which was simply unacceptable.

He checked his watch; six-thirty, he had time.

"Well not anymore you don't," Drew sing-songed, steering Adam back into his room.

"I'm pretty sure I have to give this back," he said, tugging at Eli's lame smelly hoodie.

"No, dofus," Drew said rolling his eyes. "I meant _me_. You can borrow my stuff - whenever you want. Starting right now!"

Drew flung the doors of his closet open, revealing a mass of bold and brightly coloured shirts and polos. It wasn't really Adam's style at all. Or, at least, not until Drew got his way.

"Take your pick," he grinned.

Adam made a hesitant beeline towards the darker stuff on the left-hand side. Drew's stomach dropped when he remember what _else_ was at that side of the closet.

"No-no," he said quickly, steering Adam away from the far left corner, "all the cool stuff is at the other side."

It didn't take long for Drew to regret keeping that damn hoodie in his duffle bag. He should have just thrown it in the fire with everything else. The whole point of going to the ravine was gain some closure. Hiding Gracie's things in a duffle bag wasn't closure; it was a big giant door wedge made of his own stupidity. Now it was just stuck in Drew's closet, making him nervous anytime someone went anywhere near it, fearing it would be found and that he'd have some explaining to do. He considered throwing it the trash, but he was sure it would be found. He even considered sneaking it out of the house and disposing of it somewhere far, far away, but he just _knew_ that someone would inevitably see him leaving with it. So it was stuck there until he could figure out what to do. It was like this short story he had to read for English one time where a guy murders some bug-eyed old dude and hides the body under the floorboards, only he can still hear the guy's heartbeat. It was just like that, but without the murder part.

He steered clear of the tell tale hoodie and pulled out an orange shirt from the opposite side of the closet.

"Here, take this," he said, throwing it over to Adam.

Adam examined it blankly.

"Well?" Drew said.

"_Well_?" Adam echoed.

"Put it on."

"What, _now_?"

"Yeah now, you dweeb," Drew sighed. "Okay, I won't peek. Heaven forbid anyone sees you in a t-shirt!"

He made a melodramatic show of covering his face with his hands as Adam finally took of Ghouslworthy's stupid ugly hoodie in favour of Drew's much cooler shirt. Drew took the pointlessly large sigh as a sign that he could look over.

"You like it?"

"It's fine," Adam said lazily, "it's very orange, but it's fine."

Drew took him at face value. If Adam really didn't like it, he'd make a sarcastic remark, and if he genuinely liked it, well, he'd make an even _more_ sarcastic remark. As it stood, it was "fine" and that was fine. Drew grabbed him and dragged him in front of the mirror. He felt a tiny bit anxious about the move once they were both facing it; Adam didn't have the best relationship with mirrors.

"You need to tuck one side in," he advised, "just one side."

Adam didn't comply. Instead choosing to stare at Drew suspiciously.

"… why?"

"It's cool," Drew insisted. "This side says: _hey, I'm smart and put together_, and the other side says: _I'm a fun guy who likes to party!"_

"So what you're saying is that this is the mullet of shirts?" Adam deadpanned, starting to unbutton the shirt again. He was back to his old smartass self; he appreciated it after all.

"No, no," Drew said, stopping him. "Walk up and down."

Adam managed not just to roll his eyes, but his whole face somehow. Drew didn't let it faze him; he knew it was Adam's weird way of saying thanks.

"Yeah, sure," Adam said, "after you, bro."

Drew punched his shoulder and Adam returned the favour (this, Drew had been learning, was the new code for hug, at least for the time being.) Drew had succeeded, not that he was worried about failing; he knew that it usually took a few attempts before Adam was willing to admit that the actually appreciated anything Drew did for him. It was a little frustrating; everyone else got Adam's approval instantly (he was willing to bet that Eli got a high-five and "thanks bro" the _second_ he gave Adam his douchey hoodie – and he only did that because he was stupid enough to spill something on Adam's other one) for some reason, he always made Drew work for it.

"You want this back?" asked Adam, apparently choosing not to walk up and down after all.

"Keep it for school," Drew insisted, "the ladies will love it, trust me; your fairy god-brother is on the job now."

"No offence," Adam said wryly, "but you don't really make a good fairy."

"Ok, uh, _wizard_ god-brother."

"Yeah, that's much cooler," Adam grinned, before adopting a more sincere expression. "Thanks. For this, I mean."

"No problem, bro."

He managed to resist giving a shoulder pat, if only just. It was starting to get pretty sappy, even for Drew. He had to bring it back down to a more manly level and start talking about clothes again.

"Okay," he said, clapping his hands together, "now we have to start thinking about patterns. You like plaid?"

"_Yeah_," Adam said, more earnestly than he would usually sound about non-food related things. "I mean, sure. Whatever."

Drew worked out the criteria pretty quickly; no short sleeves, as much plaid as humanly possible and purple only as a last resort (which Drew thought was a real shame because Adam would quite suit purple.)

"So," he said proudly as he carefully hooked a shirt back onto its hanger, "am I a style expert or am I a style expert?"

"I would say that you-" Adam stopped abruptly, checking his watch. "Wait, weren't you going out?"

Alli. He had forgotten about that. He didn't dare check his own watch, scared at what it might say.

"It's okay," he told Adam (and himself,) "I have time."

He didn't have time.

"You're forty-five minutes late," Alli said, not bothering to look up from her phone as Drew sheepishly sat down beside her at their table in The Dot.

"Sorry," Drew muttered, scooting himself closer to the table, "last minute emergency."

"Really," Alli asked, her concern making Drew feel incredibly guilty, "is everything alright?"

"It's fine now," Drew said, choosing to hide his guilty face behind a menu, "crisis averted."

Alli didn't say anything back, which made Drew glad; he really didn't want her to push him on it. He read the menu in silence despite knowing what he wanted and waited for Alli to pick up the conversation again. She didn't. It made Drew nervous; Alli could talk for Canada, but she wasn't making a sound. Drew braved the elements and put the menu down.

She was texting, her brow furrowed.

"You okay?"

"Jenna," she said, not looking up, "she's kind of having a little crisis of her own. Well, a _big_ crisis of her own."

_Jenna_. Of course it was Jenna. Jenna ruined everything.

"I can't really talk about it," Alli whispered, looking up at him. She had the biggest, brownest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen. He couldn't believe how stupid he was to be late for a date with a girl as beautiful as Alli. He had to find a way to let her know that.

"Your eyes are like a dog's," he said affectionately.

Alli pulled her phone down.

"Sorry?"

"No, no, it's good," Drew insisted, "I like dogs. They're nice. Your eyes, I mean – and dogs too, but I'm saying that your eyes are nice."

She pulled a baffled smile, leaned over the table and gave his a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Thanks. I think you're pretty nice yourself."

"It's good to be nice."

"Yeah."

Drew looked at his menu some more. He was feeling more stupid that usual. Why was he finding it so hard to talk to her? He had plenty to talk _about_, just as long as it wasn't emotional stuff. He was trying to break that habit.

"So, what do you like?" he asked. It felt like a strange thing to be asking a girl who had officially been his girlfriend for a few weeks, but he had never asked it before so he figured that it was probably as good a time as any.

"I was just going to get a latte-"

"No, I mean like… what things do you like? You know, in life?"

Alli's already large eyes widened even further.

"That's a pretty broad question."

"Well what's the first thing that comes to mind?"

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, apparently trying to find something resembling words.

"Dancing?" she eventually said, "I like to dance."

"I've seen you dance actually," Drew grinned, "you're good."

"I'm really not," she said, her cheeks turning pink. "I started a dance troupe but it kind of fell apart. Our only good dancer was Bianca."

"Oh." Drew said in a low voice. He didn't have the highest opinion of Bianca, at least not after she told everyone about Adam. But Alli didn't sound like she liked her much either, so that was _one_ thing they had in common.

"Nah," he said, "I bet she just dances like a stripper."

"Well, she _can_ lift her leg over her head."

Drew scolded himself for imagining it.

"Okay, okay, new topic," he said, trying to avoid the subject of sexy Bianca things (he figured that it would be much easier to hate her if she wasn't so ridiculously hot.) "How about movies, do you like them?"

"C'mon, everyone likes movies," she laughed. "But I _adore_ A Walk to Remember."

"That's not a real movie," Drew scoffed. "Now Con Air, _that's_ a real movie."

"It that the Tom Cruise one?"

"No it's the Nic Cage one. The rule is, if your movie has Cage, Stallone, Van Damme or Schwarzenegger in it, then it's automatically a real movie."

"I didn't know that rule," said Alli bemusedly. She looked down at her hands, still smiling and proceeded to spin her phone around on the table. Drew picked at the frayed laminated corners of the menu, pulling the pieces of plastic apart even more. He tried to listen in on the conversation of the couple sitting across from them, but they seemed to be talking about boring stuff, like how much they were allowed to spend on one another for Christmas.

"Top Gun," he said, breaking the growing silence.

"What?"

"You were thinking of Top Gun. When I said Con Air."

"Oh, yeah. Probably," Alli shrugged. "I haven't seen either."

"Can I get you guys something?"

A waiter who wasn't the usual Peter stood over them, notebook in hand.

"Can I have another latte please?" Alli asked. She had already finished a drink waiting for Drew. He suddenly felt bad again.

"The usual for me," he said.

"And that is?" the waiter asked blankly. Of course he didn't know Drew's usual; this guy was not Peter.

"Ice tea, thanks," Drew muttered.

Not Peter turned around without a word and headed back to the counter.

"On the bright side?" Alli said in a hushed voice. "Still better service than anyone ever got from Holly J."

"Holly J used to work here?" Drew asked.

"Dumped a milkshake on a customer's head more than once," Alli said impishly.

"You're _kidding_," Drew said. "Man, I hate Holly J sometimes."

"Please don't say the words "I hate Holly J."" Alli groaned. "It's just… very bad idea - trust me!"

She picked up her phone and began to text (probably Jenna) again. Drew wasn't entirely sure what he had done wrong, but felt bad for it anyway. He started concentrating on pushing down the skin below his fingernails. He had learned from overhearing far too many teenage girl conversations that the skin below the fingernails was "ugly" and "gross." He looked over to Alli's fingers. She didn't have the "gross" skin thing, which made Drew happy, even though he thought thinking that skin was gross was kind of stupid.

"Your drinks," Not Peter said, dumping Drew's ice tea on the table. He hoped that Alli's hot drink would somehow warm her up again.

"Uh," Drew tried, putting on all the charm he could muster, "I thought you said you wanted to share a milkshake?"

"You're too late," she retorted, Drew couldn't figure out if she was being funny or annoyed, "I drank the milkshake already."

Drew wasn't deterred, if Alli was anything like Adam, it would only take a few more tries before she would be on his side.

"Did you know that this is our first real date?" he said, moving his hand nearer to hers. "Out alone, just the two of us?"

She put her phone back on the table, allowing herself a half smile.

"I suppose it is," she said, taking his hand. "I guess I'm just a little distracted tonight. Sorry, it's been a weird few days."

Drew wondered if he should ask her if she wanted to talk about it, but that seemed like a gateway conversation into doing the same thing himself. And he really, really wanted to talk about all the things they had in common, like… well Con Air and a Walk to Remember were both movies, and football and dancing were both activities. So they had liking movies and activities in common. That was a good start.

"Oh, hold on."

Alli's phone started vibrating aggressively on the table. Drew didn't need to guess who it was.

"Jenna," Alli needlessly explained. "I should take this. I'll be right back."

She darted off her chair and slipped into the washroom. Drew checked his own phone to see if any of his friends wanted to call him (K.C. had sent him a myriad of texts the day before to tell him that Jenna was a finalist on Next Teen Star; a show that was supposed to be a singing contest, but was mostly a ploy to see who could get the most sympathy votes. Drew wasn't really a big fan.) He didn't really share K.C.'s enthusiasm; Jenna would probably be voted out after the first week anyway – why would anyone in their right mind sympathize with _her_?

He focused on drinking his ice tea and hoped that he didn't look like a loser sitting all alone in a café. Then he remembered that he let Alli sit all alone in a café for forty-five minutes so that he could dispense fashion advice. Still, he was willing to bet that being a wizard god-brother was a worthier cause than whatever Jenna needed Alli for.

Alli rushed back to the table, not bothering to sit down again.

"Jenna's having an emergency," Alli said, picking up her purse form the floor and putting it on the table. "She needs me to look over her contract for Next Teen Star. Sorry, Drew, I need to go."

"You're ditching me?" Drew asked indignantly. "For _Jenna_?"

"Hey," Alli said sharply, adopting The Head Tilt, "I've cancelled girl-time with Jenna to help you with math before, I don't see why it should be more of a problem the other way around."

Drew felt that it was a low blow. She _knew_ how much he struggled with math, and she knew that he felt bad about it. It just felt like she was throwing it in his face.

"We've not even been here half an hour," he complained, sounding a little more irritated than he had intended.

"Well maybe if you weren't _late_ we could have spent more time together," she said tartly.

"Well-" Drew began, but he had nothing. He let out a large sigh instead, just so that his breath wouldn't be completely wasted. "Do you have to go _now_?"

"She needs me."

"It's just a stupid television show."

"It's not about the show, it's-" she stopped herself, pressing her hand to her forehead in a move that reminded him _way_ too much of Mom. "I can't talk about it, but can you just trust me when I say she _really_ needs me right now?"

Drew chewed on his tongue. He knew that it was more his fault than Alli's that the date was cut short (but then again, it was more Jenna's fault than his.) He couldn't really get mad at her for it.

"I trust you."

"Thank you," she smiled, couching down to kiss him on the cheek, her hair tickling his neck. "How about we double date for lunch tomorrow? You, me, Jenna and K.C. in the caf?"

Drew could have done without Jenna being there, but figured if she was sitting infront of them, then Alli couldn't ditch him for her.

"Yeah, fine."

"Great," she said, straightening up and slinging her purse over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow?"

"See you."

And without another word, she left.

She didn't even pay for her half-finished latte.

.

oOo

.

It was spaghetti day in the caf. Usually it would have been Drew's first choice, but he was technically on a date, and it was going to be his first complete date with Alli, so he didn't like to idea of having spaghetti mouth. Spaghetti mouth wasn't romantic. He had a sandwich instead. It was okay.

Even with his pretty boring sandwich, Drew couldn't help but notice that no one else at the table seemed that keen on eating lunch. Jenna hadn't even picked anything up, the space infront of her totally empty. Across from Jenna, K.C. had brought a lunch, but mostly sat, pulling the crusts off his sandwiches and grinding them into crumbs over the brown paper lunch bag. Across from Drew, Alli had bought a salad, but barely touched it, choosing to fidget nervously instead. There was a weird atmosphere at the table; like the gravity was pushing harder against everyone. Even though Drew didn't know what was causing it, he was sure he could feel it just as intensely as everyone else.

K.C., having reduced his crusts into a fine power, started to fold down the corners of his lunch bag, then turning to the new corner he had created and folding _that_ corner down, until the whole bag began to tightly collapse in on itself, leaving no room for air to get in. Drew was pretty sure he knew how that bag was feeling.

No one seemed to feel like talking, so Drew, in a bid to break free from the tension, busied himself with his lunch, taking his time to eat his tuna sandwich, savouring each reasonably adequate bite.

But one can only eat an average sandwich for so long.

"So," he said after he had nothing else to do, "we won the game the other day."

K.C. took a second to realise that Drew was talking to him. He snapped back to reality just enough to respond.

"Yeah. You weren't there, though."

Drew was pretty sure that K.C. was just pointing out the obvious and not trying to be a jerk so he let it slide; there really didn't need to be any more animosity at the table.

"So how did it go?" He asked, despite not really wanting to know how awesome Owen was or how Riley was a much better QB and that the team didn't really need a dumb junior holding them back.

"Defence was shaky," K.C. mumbled, further flattening the folds in his lunch bag. "But the ref awarded us more penalties. Are you doing that thing today?"

At first, Drew thought K.C. was asking him the question, but then he saw that K.C. had looked up from his bag and was staring at Jenna across the table.

"Yeah," Jenna said quietly, her voice hoarse as if she hadn't been used to using it all day. "I'm going with Kyle after fifth period."

"That's good," K.C. said flatly.

Drew nodded with encouragement despite not knowing what was happening, where Jenna was going and who Kyle was (he guessed it was about her dumb TV show.) Beside Jenna, Drew spied Alli squeezing her hand underneath the table. She clearly knew more than Drew did.

"You think we won on penalties then?" Drew asked, trying

"I don't know, maybe," K.C. grumbled. "Armstrong was happy either way. Will you call me after?"

Jenna, who K.C. was addressing once again, nodded.

"Do you want to meet up, or-"

"We can work it out later," Jenna cut in, casting a quick glance at Drew. She didn't want him to know her top-secret plans. Whatever. Drew didn't care what she was up to; her stupid talent show thing didn't bother him in the first place. He turned his attention to Alli instead.

"Do you want to do something tonight too?" He asked. "My parents are going to a concert so they won't be there."

Alli looked over at Jenna, having a silent conversation with her.

"I should probably keep my evening free," Alli said apologetically, "sorry."

"What do you think they'll say today," K.C. asked in a low voice. "I mean, like, how _long_?"

"I don't know," Jenna admitted.

"Well, can you give me, like, an estimate?"

"I'm not sure," Jenna said, her voice creeping up in the throat. "I- I don't know."

"How can you not _know_?" K.C. said, much louder than Drew was expecting.

"K.C., don't," Alli said gently.

"Well it can't be that hard," K.C. said, not bothering to lower his voice. "It's just some basic math, Jenna."

Drew wasn't sure if it was the yelling, or the math insult, or her incredibly helpless looking face, but Drew actually felt a little sorry for Jenna. It wasn't _her_ fault that Kyle the producer at the TV show was going to make Jenna work for long hours away from K.C. (Drew was pretty confident this is what they were talking about.)

"I've been really stressed with everything lately," said Jenna in a strangled voice. "It's been hard to keep track with all this other stuff going on."

K.C. seemed to be quite aggressively chewing the inside of his mouth, he didn't say anything, but looked liked he really wanted to. Eventually that look disappeared and he remained silent, turning his paper bag around to start folding the corners on the other side. Drew tired to look at anywhere else but the people at his table. His eyes eventually wandered to Adam's table, where he sat with Clare and Eli, the later of whom was pointing animatedly at a book. Adam pulled a funny face, apparently doing a whiny emo impression that reminded Drew of Ghoulsworthy. The others laughed. Even talking about books looked like more fun that what was going on at Drew's table. K.C. sat, his thumb pressed so forcefully against his temple, it looked like it was going to rip through the skin and stab him in the brain. He thankfully removed it to push himself away from the table.

"I have to-" he started, but didn't finish. "Call me when…"

He nodded, lifted up his bag and walked away, not bothering to look back.

Drew wondered if he should maybe leave too; clearly Jenna and Alli wanted to talk about something that Drew wasn't supposed to hear. But if he left, he'd probably be expected to help K.C. with… whatever it was that he was in a bad mood about, and he just didn't want to have to deal with anyone's problems; he was starting to finally get into a nice, problem-free zone and he liked it there.

"So," he said, trying to break the wall of tension, but feeling pretty sure that his words just bounced off the wall and smacked him in the face instead. "We should talk about something else."

"Like what?" Alli asked.

"Well," Drew began. "We can discuss movies."

Neither of the girls seemed all that interested.

"Or activities," he tried. Still nothing.

Drew snuck another glance over at Adam's table. Eli still had the book (from what Drew could see, it looked like one of those stupid vampire love stories) and was pointing at a passage, rolling his eyes. Clare playfully shoved him as Adam laughed at what Eli was reading out.

Alli and Jenna went back to their silent conversation. Drew finished folding the corners of K.C. abandoned lunch bag. Once again Jenna had sabotaged one of their dates. If she weren't there, Drew and Alli would have _plenty_ to discuss about movies and activities. If they managed to get some genuine alone time, they would finally be able to find out what they had in common.

Drew just _knew_ it.

.

oOo

.

The whole thing was organized. Little Miss Steaks. No phones. No Friends. No TV or distractions. Seven pm _sharp_.

Nothing could get in the way. They could finally just talk and be a couple.

Drew got there twenty minutes early, not wanting a repeat of what happened at The Dot, ordering a table for two in advance. He didn't even bother taking his phone with him, deciding that if he was going to have it switched off the whole time, then there was no point in brining it at all. He was starting to regret that decision as he waited. He was getting pretty bored until Alli showed up at _exactly_ seven o'clock.

"Hey," she said, walking straight over to him and giving him a quick kiss. Her lips were all sticky and shiny, but they tasted very nice, so Drew didn't mind.

"You look great," he said, pointing at her.

"Thank you," Alli beamed, "you too."

They both smiled and nodded at each other for a stupidly long time, like those little bobble-headed toy dogs you see in the back of people's cars.

"Should be order a table," Alli eventually said, pointing to the front desk.

"I did that already."

"Oh," Alli said. "Than should we-"

"Yeah, yeah," Drew stammered, showing her the table he had saved while he waited. He pulled out her chair for her to sit on and feeling weirdly like more like her waiter than her date.

"Can I take your order?" he joked feebly. Alli smiled.

"Nah, it's okay," she said, still grinning.

Drew sat down in his own seat, suddenly realising that he was directly across from the booth he was sitting in with Grams the week before. He tried to readjust his chair to avoid seeing it; he was trying pretty hard to forget about that night.

He hastily picked up his menu and shoved his head as far in as he could while still being able to read it.

"Hungry?" he heard Alli say, sounding amused.

"Starving," he muttered.

"Oh. Okay."

From the gap below his menu, he could see Alli's hands as she picked up her own to read. No one said anything for a long while.

"Hey," Drew said, trying to make some sort of conversation, "They've changed the menu since last time I was here."

"Hm?"

"Yeah, they've added the calories and stuff. I don't think they had that last week. Weird."

"You were here last week?" Alli asked inquisitively, "who with?"

Drew didn't particularly want to talk about that. The dinner with Grams was not one of his prouder moments. He ignored the question and started looking around at all the things on the walls instead.

"Heh, skull," Drew said, pointing to a buffalo skull hanging on the wall behind Alli. "You ever watch Pokemon?"

"No."

"Oh. Well there's a Pokemon who wears a skull that looks just like that – Cubone. He's a ground-type."

"Mm-hmm," Alli droned from behind her menu. Drew took that as a sign to take a better look at his. He was pretty sure they had added new pictures too, that was interesting. He looked at the desserts, despite the fact that was pretty sure he wasn't going to get one. His chair rocked a little bit; the front left leg was a little bit shorter than the others. He considered changing it for another chair, but ultimately decided not to. The rocking gave him something to do.

"The tapas is a false economy."

"Hm?"

Alli had put her menu flat on the table, examining two of the pages.

"Well the tapas offers any three starters for twelve dollars, with the average price of a starter being six dollars fifty," she exposited. "But if the number of calories listed for each suggest that the tapas versions are significantly _smaller_."

"Uh-huh,"

"If we assume a regular starter to weigh one hundred grams-"

"-I'd be pissed if my six-fifty starter was only a hundred grams-"

"-It's just for argument's sake. Let me work this out."

She produced a pen and started writing on her napkin. It felt way too much like school for Drew's liking.

"Okay, so six hundred and fifty cents per one hundred grams…"

Drew's mind moved to other things; he wondered if he could stick one of the spare coasters under his short chair leg without Alli noticing that he'd stopped paying attention to her math lesson. He decided that he probably couldn't and instead found himself trying to remember the Pokemon rap; he used to be able to recite the whole thing from memory. Was it Rapidash, _Magneton_, Snorlax, or Rapidash, _Caterpie_, Snorlax? He'd have to look it up. If only he had his phone.

"-So you're actually getting _less_ for your dollar," Alli concluded, dropping her pen triumphantly. "You're paying for variety, basically," she passed her napkin equation to Drew to examine. He'd have to take her word for it.

"Well yeah," Drew shrugged, "why have a lot of one thing when you can keep things interesting with a little bit of everything?"

Alli raised an eyebrow.

"You'd honestly pay more for less?"

"Well it's _not_ less," Drew insisted, "it gives you the chance to try something new. What if you're curious about, I don't know, the carnitas, but you've always tired beef burritos and you're happy with it and all, but it turns out that carnitas is your favourite food, and you never find out because you've never tried it? Well, try a little bit and you can you discover your food destiny!"

"I'm happy with beef burritos," Alli said dully, grabbing her napkin back.

"Variety is the spice of life, Alli."

"Yeah, well too many spices spoil the broth, so-"

Drew would have corrected her and told her that it was "cooks" that spoil the broth, but he was pretty sure that she already knew that. She seemed mad at him, but he had no idea why. He was going to blame Jenna anyway. And Little Miss Steaks too - his dinners at Little Miss Steaks never went well. He should have stuck by his vow to never set foot in the place again.

"What can I get you, partners?"

Alli smiled over to the waiter, making Drew suddenly realise just how little she had been smiling before.

"I'll have a veggie enchilada and pepper fries, please?"

She looked over at Drew expectantly, like his order was going to be some sort of test that he had no idea how to pass. She _was_ mad at him. He didn't even _do_ anything yet. He had followed all her rules to a tee; he was on time, he didn't bring his phone, he even un-mulleted his shirt by tucking in both sides.

"And for the gentlemen?"

Drew sighed, wondering why the universe was so hell-bent on making sure he couldn't just have a nice date with his girlfriend.

"I'll have the tex-mex tapas, please."

.

oOo

.

* * *

><p>- It's Rapidash, <em>Magneton<em>, Snorlax. Just in case you were wondering ;)

- 20 percent of Canadian teens smoke, but none of the kids on Degrassi are ever seen lighting up. I find this highly suspicious!

_In the next chapter: The Torres brothers have slightly different views on forgiveness. _


	38. The Blind Spot

_I'm sorry this chapter is so long! I just couldn't work out what to cut from it!_

_This chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "Purple Pulls (1)"_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 38 – The Blind Spot<strong>

He was awake much earlier than he would have wanted to be, even for a school day. But Mom had decided that seven in the morning was a _perfect_ time to clean (which meant that she was probably annoyed about something; polishing was an annoyed-Mom thing) so she proceeded to clatter and spray and drag around furniture until Drew was forced to surrender the idea of getting any more sleep. He staggered down the stairs, vaguely aware Gracie talking to someone on the phone far too loudly for such an early hour, but he didn't bother listening in to her conversation.

He avoided eye contact with Mom, who was angrily buffering the coffee table, and made straight for the kitchen, putting two waffles in the toaster and waiting. It was the day before Degrassi's final game of the season; football was going to be over soon. He wasn't sure how to feel about it; he had barely played, instead having to watch as Riley got all the glory, but it was _football_ and it was the only thing he was any good at. To top it all off, K.C. had had decided not to show up to practice anymore, he was still acting really weird, and Riley and Zane were having some sort of lover's quarrel – again – and, with everyone else getting caught up in stupid drama, it was getting harder and harder to avoid Owen. On the other hand, if he wasn't Drew Torres: quarterback, who was he supposed to _be_ for the rest of the year?

His waffles popped up and he scooped them into his hands, not bothering with a plate, chewing on one as he made his way though to the living room to find out who Gracie was talking-

He stopped. It was the _present_; Gracie shouldn't have been there at all.

Drew picked up his pace, darting through to the living room to see Adam leaning against the wall, talking on the phone in Gracie's voice; the conversation was littered with more "likes" and sing-songy inflection than Adam would usually use. It was incredibly unsettling. Adam obviously knew it too, as he offered Drew a helpless looking shrug.

"No," he said into the phone. "I, like, totally understand. I get it, it's fine. It's not like it's your fault or anything."

And in an instant, Drew knew _exactly_ who Adam was talking to, why Adam was in "girl-mode" and why Mom was doing her anger cleaning.

_Scott_.

"No, _I'm _sorry," Adam insisted. "It's, like, way too much to ask for you to come all the way over from Victoria."

It wasn't really. Drew's mother lived in Australia and she got in touch way more often than Scott did.

"Well if you're ever back in Ontario-" Adam started, but he was apparently cut off. "I mean if you're not too busy with work… I_ know_ you only go over for work. I'm sorry, I just meant-"

Drew glared at him. Adam always did this sort of thing with Scott; Scott would disappoint him and Adam (or Gracie, since Scott didn't even know that Adam existed) would end up apologizing for it like he was somehow to blame for this. Adam chose to ignore Drew's glaring.

"Okay," Adam said gently, "I love you too. Bye, Dad."

He hung up the phone and turned around to press his forehead to the wall.

"Don't," he said sharply before Drew could cut in.

Drew didn't say anything. He didn't really have to; they always ended up having the same argument when Scott was involved.

"Well I can't tell him over the phone, can I?" Adam said, without any prompt.

"Why not?" Drew asked, popping the other waffle into his mouth. "If you don't like the way the conversation's going you can just hang up. Easy."

"Yeah, but _he_ can hang up too. And I barely see him as it is and… It's just better to do it face-to-face."

"Why's he calling anyway? He's a little early, your birthday isn't 'til May."

Despite his face being pressed against a wall, Adam somehow managed to roll his eyes at Drew.

"Ha-ha," he said, still talking to the wall. "He called to explain why he couldn't make Thanksgiving, and I apologized and that was that."

"Wait," Drew said, trying to adopt his best Mom-tone. "So he bails on you and _you_ apologise to _him_?"

"Well, it's a really long trip for one day," Adam mumbled, turning around so that the back of his head was pressed against the well. "I shouldn't expect so much; it's selfish."

"Yeah," Drew deadpanned, "it's not like he's your _dad_ or anything."

"We're not doing this again," Adam warned. "Not today. Today blows."

"Well at least you have your guy's night thing tonight with what's-his-face," Drew offered. "That's something to look forward to, right?"

Adam shook his head gloomily.

"No, I don't," he groaned. "Eli bailed. Too much homework."

"Sucks," Drew added uselessly, clapping the crumbs off his hands. "Well, if you need a player two…"

"Come on, you have _the_ best plans with Alli tonight," Adam insisted. "No _way_ I'm messing that up."

Drew felt his stomach twist the tiniest bit. He had perhaps embellished his plans for the evening. Or completely made them up. It wasn't his fault, though; Adam had gone on and on about the guy's night only to tell Drew that he wasn't invited, just Ghoulsworthy – how was Drew supposed to respond to that? Naturally by having much better plans, of course. Only his much better plans were non-existent; K.C. was still acting really weird and all Alli wanted to do was make him study for their stupid history final. He lied and said that he had a romantic dinner planned. In reality he was probably just going to sit in The Dot and eat lots of pie. Alone.

"I can reschedule will Alli, I guess-"

"I don't need a pity party," Adam drawled. "It's fine, I'll think of something else. Maybe just go to The Dot and eat them out of cake or something."

"Cool," Drew said, now wondering what he was supposed to do when he was pretending to have a "romantic dinner" with Alli. "Who needs Eli anyway? He has stupid hoodies."

Adam frowned, apparently not as keen on making fun of Eli as Drew was (which was a shame; on a good day, Adam's insults were pretty devastating.)

"I mean, I guess I was asking for a lot when exams are coming up," he said slowly. Drew pulled his sternest face, as if to say: _no - don't let Eli off the hook that easy._

"Studying comes first, right?"

_If he really wanted to study, he wouldn't have agreed to a guy's night in the first place. Bailing at the last minute is lame._

"It's not fair to ask someone to risk failing their exams for a stupid guy's night."

_This is not remotely your fault; why would you feel guilty over Ghoulsworthy's lameness?_

"It's fine."  
><em><br>It isn't._

"I get it."

_You shouldn't._

Drew didn't bother actually arguing with Adam's bizarre logic; it was textbook Adam – someone let him down and it was somehow Adam's (or sometimes Drew's) fault and all would instantly forgiven. The more he thought about it, the more relieved Drew was that Scott had bailed on Thanksgiving.

Especially after what happened the last time.

.

oOo

.

_October 12th 2009_

Mom was polishing her fork with her napkin. It was starting to squeak. It made Drew's teeth shrink, but she didn't stop. She wouldn't stop - not until Scott Grearson finally went back to his own stupid house with his own stupid family and stopped bothering Drew's. He couldn't believe he was missing the football for this.

"It will be two more minutes," Dad yelled from the kitchen, where he had been holed up most of the afternoon. Mom may have made dinner most nights, but Dad was (wisely) left in charge of the important meals.

Next to Drew, Gracie sat tugging at the big red bow stuck on her head, the one that matched the sparkly red dress that was wearing her. It was stupid, froofy look that only came out when Scott was around, for some reason he apparently needed to be impressed. She looked a little bit like a Christmas present, a very nicely wrapped Christmas present, but Drew was pretty sure that as soon as the day was over, she'd rip the paper off and throw it straight in the trash. She only did it one day a year, and only for the benefit of someone who didn't deserve it.

Drew was wearing a shirt, he felt like that was good enough. It wasn't like they were going anywhere fancy or anything; they were just in the house.

Scott, on the other hand, was wearing a full-blown suit. He always wore a suit; Drew had one seen him out of a suit once on a fishing trip the summer before and even then, he looked like someone out of a high-end menswear catalogue as apposed to an actual normal human being. He would look weird wearing jeans and a t-shirt, unnatural even. It was like he was born to be a politician, everything about him seemed calculated; his suits were always pressed and immaculate, his teeth were almost too straight and white, his slicked-back hair was never out of place, even his once auburn temples seemed to be greying strategically.

He had already tutted over Gracie putting her elbows on the table, saying that it wasn't "ladylike" (Drew would have let out a snort of laughter, but it was Scott, so he declined.) Despite Mom telling her she could do whatever she wanted with her arms, Gracie sat sheepishly with her hands on her lap from the moment Scott said anything, which was stupid, because he was trying to enforce table manners at a table that didn't even belong to him. Meanwhile Mom had kept her arms permanently glued to the table ever since, in some childish (and awesome) act of defiance.

Grams put a hand over Mom's arm as she continued to wipe her silverware, elbows digging into the tablecloth.

"You're going to wear a hole in your fork," she joked. Mom huffily put it down. Drew quite liked it when Grams treated Mom the way Mom treated him.

"Turkey time!"

Dad strolled out of the kitchen and proudly placed the bird on the table, nodding at it approvingly. Dad was such a nerd about Thanksgiving. He picked up the carving knife, but Scott stopped him.

"Allow me, Omar," he said smugly, taking the knife out of Dad's hand. "I was doing this at the local shelter last weekend, I'm a pro at it now. The trick is to focus on the rest of the bird; not the piece you're cutting. Here."

"-Erm-"

"Two hundred vagrants can't be wrong," Scott said, cutting perfectly clean slices of turkey off and carefully resting them on side of the plate. Drew liked the jagged way Dad did it better.

"How many turkeys did you have to carve to feed two hundred people?" Gracie asked, hanging on his every obnoxious word.

"Well, you see, button," Scott explained. "There was only one actual turkey – it looks more impressive for the photographs, you understand. The rest of the food came already prepared, but I'm sure it was just as good. A lot of transients are just happy to be getting anything to eat."

Dad moved out of the way and sat down beside Mom, who started flattening invisible creases out of the tablecloth, as Scott started doling out the turkey as he saw fit.

"No – no skin for you, sugarplumb," he said, giving Gracie dainty little slices of meat. "It's the worst part for you. It's really fattening."

"She's a tiny little thing," Grams said, keeping the tone light. "Give her the whole bird if you have to."

Everyone chuckled weakly. Mom straightened the already straight centrepieces.

"Shall I say grace?" Scott asked, sitting down to his own plate.

"Huh?" Gracie said dully, thinking that she was being addressed. It was the closest Scott ever came to saying her name, he always insisted on using little pet names with her. Drew was absolutely convinced that he did it so that he wouldn't slip up and use one of his other kid's names by accident.

Scott clasped his hands together, clearing his throat.

"Oh," Gracie mumbled, realizing and clasping her own hands to join the adults in an uncustomary prayer at the dinner table.

Drew tried to start an elbow war with Gracie while everyone had their eyes closed. She wasn't playing. He opened his own eyes and looked around; everyone seemed to be quite happily playing along with this. Why no one was telling Scott to shut up was a mystery to Drew, it wasn't even his family and he had taken over. Drew didn't want to imagine how insufferable Scott would be in his own house with his own family. Mom may have been bossy, but she didn't barge into other people's houses and take control of their Thanksgiving dinners.

"Amen," everyone mumbled, digging into the food infront of them. All remaining silent save for the clatter of cutlery. Everyone looked pretty miserable.

And Drew was always told that Thanksgiving was supposed to be a _nice_ day.

.

oOo

. 

K.C. didn't show up to the final practice, not that Drew was expecting him to; he hadn't shown up to the last three either. Zane and Riley were too busy giving each other long, meaningful glances to bother with anyone else (since the bachelor's auction, Drew was pretty sure that Riley was unofficially "out." Took him long enough.) Drew pretty much had no one to talk to on the team any more. Practice felt a lot longer when he had no one to joke around with and nothing to do other than watch Riley be a better quarterback than him. Even in the change room getting back into his normal clothes, he sat isolated in the corner (he _did_ notice that he got ready a lot faster when he wasn't messing around, though.)

He was just putting his jacket back on when someone finally decided to talk to him.

"'Sup bro, good practice, huh? Can you believe it's tomorrow?"

Owen punched him on the arm as he unlaced his boots beside him. Drew, already changed and ready to go home, got up and moved without saying a word to him; Owen didn't deserve words – he _knew_ what he did.

"C'mon, dude," Owen groaned as Drew walked away, "it's our last game tomorrow."

"Good," Drew said sharply, not bothering to look back. He never should have given Owen a second chance after the flagpole incident; he was obviously just a bad person. Drew never should have tried to make excuses for him; that was such an _Adam_ thing to do.

Mom was already waiting for him when he got outside.

"What's the matter?" She asked, frowning at Drew's huffy face.

"It's the last game of the season tomorrow," Drew offered. It was true, but it wasn't _really_ the thing that was bothering him.

Mom pushed back his just-showered flyaway hair.

"I know," she said gently. "But you have basketball next semester, right?"

"It's not the same."

"Look on the bright side," Mom said, turning the engine back on, "with football not taking up all your time, you can start focusing more on your grades."

"_Great_," Drew muttered at the drove away. "Hey – shouldn't we wait for Adam?"

"He went to that café place," Mom answered, "he's to call every half-hour."

Drew felt a weird sense of accomplishment; Mom only made him call once every hour when he was out. Then again, he probably wasn't as much of a target as Adam was. At least Drew could stick up for himself.

"You _have_ started studying, right?" Mom asked carefully, "you have history in two days."

"Yeah," Drew lied. "I'm all historically accurate and stuff."

"Okay," Mom said, not sounding entirely convinced. She didn't bring it up again for the rest of the journey.

As if by design, the phone rang the second they got through the door. Drew scanned the caller ID: _Principal Simpson._

Drew's heart sank; principals never called home unless something was wrong; were Drew's grades _that_ bad? Did Armstrong work out that he was copying Adam's worksheets in math? Did something happen to Adam?

_Did something happen to Adam?_

He went to The Dot. All alone. Why did he go on his own? Why didn't Drew just admit that he had not plans and spend the evening with him? It would be his fault if something had happened.

Mom picked the phone up with such urgency that Drew could only presume that she had come to the same conclusion.

"Hello," Mom said frantically, chewing her lip as she listened. Her body unstiffened after a few seconds.

"A _Vegas_ night?" she said, "with _gambling_? At a _school_?"

She waved Drew away. He complied and ran down to the basement. He was woefully behind on his gaming; he couldn't even remember where he had left off in _Arkham Asylum_, but he remembered Harley Quinn in a nurse's outfit (but how could anyone _forget_ Harley Quinn in a nurse's outfit) but was otherwise pretty sure that he had barely gotten past the second level.

"-_Well I just don't think Sin City is an appropriate theme for schoolchildren-"_

Drew turned up the volume on the television, drowning Mom out, and started digging into the butterfingers that he could only assume Adam had left underneath the coffee table (he couldn't wait until dinner; he was always starving after practice.)

He was almost through the entire packet when the patio door swished open. Drew checked his playing time; it could have only been twenty minutes or so since he switched the Xbox on.

"Are you eating my candy?" Adam asked flatly.

"No?"

"Why are there, like, seven candy wrappers beside you on the couch?"

"Uh-"

"You have chocolate face."

"Fine, you caught me," Drew confessed as Adam crashed beside him on the couch. "I thought you were hanging out at The Dot."

"I left," Adam huffed. "Eli was there."

"Oh?"

"With Clare. On a date."

"_Ohh_," Drew said slowly. "Eli and Clare, is that a thing?"

"Basically."

"Eurgh. I don't like that at all."

"Tell me about it," Adam sighed, stealing one of the few remaining candy bars and tearing it open. "Aren't you supposed do be going out with Alli?"

"Uh, she bailed," Drew lied quickly. "Too much studying."

"Exams suck," Adam grumbled, biting the top of the bar off with more aggression then was really necessary.

"_People_ suck," Drew added. "Exams just give them an excuse to suck even more."

"They _say_ they're going to be there," Adam said, gesturing madly, "and then it's all: _Nope. Sorry. We've got better things to do than to spend time with you._ Being the third wheel blows."

"It's not that you're the third wheel," Drew said, "it's that you need better friends; ones that don't ditch you."

"And then lie about it," Adam added. "That's the thing that bothers me; he ditched me and then lied to me. If he didn't want to have a guy's night, then fine – I can deal with that. But I had things _organized_. I bought dipping sauce!"

"Who needs them?" Drew said, enjoying the whole thing more than he really should have. "I mean, what are you really missing by not hanging out with Eli and Clare tonight?"

"Apart from the constant eye-sex?" Adam deadpanned. "I don't know. They get me. And they've always been cool about me being... _you_ know, and no one else at school really is."

"_I_ am."

"Yeah, but that's not the same."

"Okay, what will you _not_ miss?"

"They both try _way_ too hard to sound smart - I'm pretty sure Eli has a word-of-the-day," Adam said, looking amused, "and he has to say it as much as possible. I think today's was "fanfaronade," which is all sorts ironic, since I getting pretty sick of Eli's constant fanfaronade!"

"Ha-ha, yeah!" Drew cheered, even though he had never heard the word "fanfaronade" in his life. It sounded like a beverage. "I bet Clare thinks his know-it-all words are _so awesome_."

"She's just as bad," Adam laughed. "She's always correcting my spelling in grammar in text messages."

"That's so annoying-"

"-I know!"

"Man, those two deserve each other."

"Definitely."

They both sat on the couch, grinning in silence.

"So," Drew said after a minute or two went by, "those dipping sauces aren't going eat themselves."

"Thanks, but I'm probably going to work on the rest of my exam prep," Adam said, pushing himself back off the couch. "You can have them if you want."

"Oh. Okay. Cool."

Adam dragged himself up the stairs, opened the door (letting Mom's phone voice flood into the basement) and left Drew on his own. He wasn't sure what was worse; being imaginary-ditched by Alli or _actually_ ditched by Adam, who had just been ditched himself and probably should've known better.

Drew didn't bother continuing the level. He didn't feel like playing anymore.

.

oOo

.

"So, pumpkin," Scott asked between bites. "How's school?"

"Good," Gracie muttered through a mouth of mashed potato.

"She's on the honour role," Mom cut in. "Straight A's, in the grade ten AP English class, moderates the school podcast."

"School podcast?" Scott asked, "is that like the morning announcements?"

"Nah," Gracie said, wiping her mouth with her napkin, "it's a weekly hour-long show and we invite people to come on to talk about what's going on at the school; like Drew was on last month talking about the football season. I moderate it; so I edit the show, book the guests, research them for the interview, mix the sound – that sort of thing."

"Gracie's interested in sound engineering at the moment," Mom added.

"I like sound engineering," Gracie said, piling more carrots on her plate. "It's cool."

"So it's like _radio_?" Scott asked, saying the last word like it was something unpleasant.

"Sort of."

"And you don't _appear_ on the show?"

"No. The thought of having to listen to my own voice makes me cringe!"

"Do you have a TV show at school? News, morning announcement, anything like that?"

"The student council president does the video announcements."

"You'd be much better suited for something like that, muffin," Scott insisted. "It's a fact of life; pretty girls don't belong on talk radio – they belong on cable news!"

He chucked to himself, taking a sip of his water.

"Thanks," Gracie said, trying to look pleased but failing miserably.

"You don't cheerlead or anything?"

"No," Gracie scoffed.

"But you're such a beautiful dancer," Scott urged. "I used to love going to all your recitals."

Mom put her knife and fork on the table with such force the plates shook.

"Gracie never danced," she said harshly. "That was Stephanie. Your _other_ daughter?"

"Mom-"

"Audra-"

"Is that really that hard to remember _one _interest your daughter has?"

"I just misspoke, I know it's Stephanie who used to dance," Scott said smoothly, turning to Gracie. "You know that, don't you, cupcake?"

"Yeah, sure," Gracie said, nodding eagerly.

Drew glared at her. She ignored him.

"Uh, Scott," Dad said loudly, trying to ease the tension. "What can I get you for dessert? The kids made little cupcakes to have with coffee later on, but we have pumpkin pie if you want something more traditional for now."

"Ah, I don't think I can stay for coffee," Scott said, checking his Rolex. "I'm sure your kids did a great job, but I've got to get back to my _own_-"

He stopped. Clearing a non-existent obstruction in his throat. Everything went silent for far too long. Drew could almost hear the record scratch as everyone tensed up.

"Your own _what_" Mom asked, narrowing her eyes and adopting the most fierce head tilt Drew had ever seen.

"-Uh, _house_. Back to my own house," he lied.

"Okay," Mom said sharply under her breath. "Is everyone done?"

Everyone apart from Drew murmured their "yeahs" as Mom started collecting plates.

"Omar?" she said, walking over to the kitchen. "Will you-"

Dad stood up, following Mom to the kitchen to have whatever secret discussion she wanted to have. Drew couldn't hear what they were saying, but there was a lot of yelling. He didn't like it; Mom and Dad _never_ argued.

"I should-" Grams said, also getting up. "Excuse me."

She followed them to the kitchen, presumably to be mediator, leaving Drew alone at the table with Gracie. And _Scott_.

"Sorry about her," Gracie said, offering her dad a feeble smile. "She'll find any excuse to be mad at someone."

"It's okay, buttercup," Scott said, "I know what she's like."

"She's not usually like this," Drew spoke up. "It's almost like there's a _reason_ she's in a bad mood today."

Scott ignored him, instead reaching a hand over the table and squeezing Gracie's.

"You know that I want to be here, don't you, angel?" he said, grinning through his dazzling white teeth.

"Of course I do," Gracie beamed. For someone so smart, she was frustratingly stupid sometimes.

"But," Scott said, letting out a large sigh, "maybe it's not the best idea for me to come over for dinner anymore. Maybe it's just best that we talk over the phone from now on - at least when your mother's around. She obviously has a tough time with it and it just makes it harder on everyone."

"No, it's not you," Gracie insisted, "it's _her_, she's always doing this!"

"It's not just your Mom. This will be the fifth Thanksgiving a row I've been away from the kids," Scott said, adopting a sympathetic smile. "It's not fair on them, honey. They're so much younger than you; they don't understand why I'm not there for such a special day."

Drew really wished he still had his napkin; there were a lot of glasses on the table that he suddenly had the urge to polish.

"You're old enough to understand that I can't always drop everything for one afternoon, kitten," Scott continued. "It's a lot to ask, and it's not fair on Scotty and Stephanie; they're only children."

He was talking out of his ass; Scotty was only two years younger than Gracie, and Stephanie was only a year younger than Scotty. They got their dad for Christmas, birthdays, and every other day of the year. We're they really that stupid that they couldn't understand that their dad had _another_ kid he needed to spend time with?

"I know," Gracie said quietly, "I know, I'm sorry."

"Why don't you get me one of your great cupcakes for the road, huh?"

"_No!_"

Drew didn't even mean to say it out loud. Gracie started as him with such force he could actually _feel_ it; like she had developed laser powers or something.

"Drew," she hissed, "what the hell?"

"No, you don't deserve a cupcake," Drew said defiantly, standing up for full effect. "You are so _full_ of it."

"Drew-"

"You act like coming over for dinner is the most inconvenient thing in the universe."

"Drew, seriously-"

"My mom lives on a different _continent_ and makes more effort than you."

"I swear to god, Drew-"

"You're a total _deadbeat_!"

He didn't say that last part with as much conviction as he really wanted to, probably because it wasn't strictly true. Scott wasn't a _total_ deadbeat; he did send money, lots of it in fact, much more than he legally had to. And his Christmas and birthday presents to Gracie were always bigger, more expensive and more impressive than the ones anyone else gave, but at least everyone else was there to give them in person.

Scott stood up too. He was much taller than Drew. And he was wearing a suit. And hey had sophisticatedly greying temples. Drew had gravy splatter on his shirt.

"Look," he said in a low voice, pointing a finger in Drew's face. "I'm going to forget that this conversation ever happened. And we're going sit down, act civil and not ruin Thanksgiving for everyone. Okay, Andrew?"

Drew's mouth tightened, he could feel Gracie tugging at his sleeve, urging him to_ sit down and shut up._

He did. He didn't _want_ to, but he did.

They sat in uncomfortable silence until Mom, Dad and Grams came back into the dining room, Mom's face was still very red, but she didn't say anything about it. She too had decided to sit down and shut up.

"I should probably get back on the road," Scott mumbled, throwing his napkin on the table and standing up. "Like I said, it's going to get dark soon and with traffic and everything."

"That's fine," Mom said stonily. Dad shook Scott's hand. Grams nodded towards him. Mom forced herself to smile. Gracie followed him into the hallway. Drew peered through the doorframe, watching them as they said their goodbyes.

"I know it's earlier than we agreed," Scott said. "But I don't want to miss the kids on Thanksgiving. You understand."

"I know," Gracie whispered. "It's fine, you have to go see Scotty and Stephanie."

She gave him a quick hug. He patted her gingerly on the head.

"I'll call you later, sweetheart," he said stiffly, fixing his suit jacket where it had creased from the hug and holding his car keys tightly in one hand. Drew got up the second Scott disappeared through the front door. Gracie waved at her dad through the windowpanes framing the doorway.

"Finally," Drew said as soon as he heard Scott's car peel away. "Now we start having a _normal_ Thanksgiving."

"Don't talk to me," Gracie hissed as she stormed upstairs, arms tightly crossed.

Drew stood in the hallway, listening as Gracie marched up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door shut.

"What's going on out there?" Mom called from the dining room. Drew wasn't even sure how to answer.

Scott had ruined Thanksgiving.

And it was all somehow Drew's fault.

.

oOo

.

"Zane and Riley for prom King and King!"

Anya MacPherson, already in her power squad uniform, gleefully handed Drew a bright purple flyer. Okay, so maybe they _were_ officially a thing. Either that or Anya was yanking an unsuspecting Stavros out of his giant long-stay closet.

Either way, it was going to make for some interesting locker room talk. Or least it would have if anyone else had decided to go to the change room as early as Drew.

They hadn't; the change room was totally abandoned. Not that it really mattered since Drew had no one to talk to anyway.

He was still on his own by the time he had gotten changed. Either everyone was cutting it really close, or Drew was becoming a pretty proficient speed changer.

He sat on the bench for a while. He hadn't seen the locker room that quiet since the day Fitz beat the crap out of him and he needed a safe place to lay low. But at least it was a shared silence; sitting on his own, stuck with his own thoughts with no distraction was just tedious.

"You asleep?"

Drew lifted his sunken head up to see Owen, already dressed and standing in the doorway, nodding at Drew.

"You decided to show up before the fairy kings too?" he said, opening his locker and throwing his backpack in it. "Good plan."

Drew pushed himself up, feeling much braver now that he had his uniform on.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick the crap out of you?"

Owen, quite a bit taller than Drew, rolled his eyes.

"Other than because you probably couldn't?"

Drew took a deep breath in, slowly realizing that fighting Owen wouldn't be his best move.

"You threw my brother through a glass door!"

"I didn't know the glass was gonna break," Owen said defensively. "It was supposed to be funny-"

"-Well it wasn't," Drew spat back. He had had enough of Owen. He had had enough of everybody. He just wanted to get the stupid final game out of the way. He pushed past Owen and began to walk down the hallway. Owen followed. Idiot didn't know when to quit.

"Hey, you should have heard what Fitz wanted to do," he yelled, making Drew slow down his pace. "You think getting thrown through a door is bad? Or getting wrapped to a flagpole? Or getting a lousy black eye?"

Owen had caught up with Drew, who decided just to stop and let Owen finish his dumb rant. Then he could get him off his back.

"You shouldn't treat people like that."

"You've never made fun of someone?" Owen asked. Only he wasn't asking, because he somehow knew that Drew couldn't honestly answer that question.

"The pecking order isn't going to stop existing just because you want it to," Owen continued. "It's high school. It's not that hard to just keep your head down."

He wasn't even bothering to apologise for what he did, he was just trying to make excuses. Well Drew wasn't going to get suckered in.

"He was keeping his head down," Drew said, sounding angrier than he had intended. "And you pulled it up and threw it through a window-"

"-Door-"

"-Like that's any better. Look, you have no idea what my family's had to go through."

"Oh really? You don't have a monopoly on family issues, dude, I have a little brother too."

Drew probably would have just written Owen off, and walked away there and then, but the inclusion of the word "too" helped keep his attention, if only a little bit. Owen sighed, clenching his fists as if trying to punch his own words.

"Tristan," he grumbled. "He's in grade eight. He starts high school next year and…" Owen stopped and looked away for moment, preparing himself for what he was about to say, adopting a fighting stance although he wasn't fighting anyone. "He's… he runs a blog about The West Point. He collects scarves."

Drew let out an involuntary snort of laughter. "Dude… what?"

"Hey, it's not funny!" Owen yelled. "That's my little brother."

"And if someone threw him through a door, what would you want to do to them?"

"He's not going to get thrown through doors," Owen said through clenched teeth. "I'm going make sure he's normal in high school. That's our job. It's not my fault that you failed."

Drew suddenly remembered that he was holding his helmet in his hand. Owen's were empty. No one was looking; Drew could've probably beaten him with it if he really wanted to.

He really, _really_ wanted to.

He overcame that urge; clearly Owen had some issues. Smashing has face in, as much as Drew wanted to, wouldn't change that.

"You're pathetic, dude," he scowled, walking to the front entrance to the bus.

"Hey, if you tell anyone we had this conversation-" Owen shouted after him, not bothering to follow.

"Dude, _you_ starting talking to _me_," Drew retorted, turning around and glaring at him.

Owen shrugged.

"Whatever," he sighed. "See you on the bus."

He disappeared back into the change room. Drew chose to keep his head down and wait for the bus. No one else was there; it wasn't like anyone would get on until the last second anyway. As expected, the team started to scatter in five minutes before they were due to leave, the buzz of the upcoming game starting to infect everyone involved. Williams, a wide receiver, made show of high-fiving everyone who came within ten feet of him. Drew had been high-fived at least seven times, which he guessed meant that he was high-_twenty_-fived or something. Tremblay, a safety, was aggressively shouting "_yeah_" at every opportunity, like some sort of optimistic Tourette's. Drew decided to stop mulling over Owen and start enjoying his last game, joining in on Tramblay's "yeahs" and even joining in on all the high fives.

"Hey, I guess it's official," he said, after high fiving Williams for the ninth or tenth time. "Riley and Zane: The Kings of the Dance."

"You _think_?" Williams scoffed, leering at Zane as we walked past them. "The cat's out the bag and the cat is _gay_."

Zane stopped, looking over his shoulder and staring back at Drew. Drew didn't want to fight anyone, not before their last game. But he was beyond being sick of all the stupid gay jokes from everyone. He was sick of the laughing and taunting and picking on people who didn't deserve any of the crap people were throwing at them; especially over things that people couldn't change about themselves.

"Just…" he started, his voice a lot weaker than he would have really liked, "leave it alone, okay? Who cares?"

Riley had finally appeared, making him the last player to show up (other than K.C., but Drew wasn't expecting K.C. anyway.) People started staring. Drew was getting pretty sick of staring, too.

"Check it out," Williams grinned, turning around to face Riley.

"Straight up," he said, "do you like dudes?"

Riley looked over Williams' shoulder, presumably to Zane.

"Yes," he said stonily. "I do."

A wave of jeering started to bubble up. The sound was enough to send Drew into an instant rage, but Riley somehow managed to remain calm.

"One in particular," he said, his voice still low. Drew guessed he was looking over at Zane again, but he didn't turn around to check; he was waiting for the second where Riley just snapped and punched someone in the face.

Williams, laughing along with the rest of the team, turned around to face the crowd.

"Well _somebody_ owes me money! I had ten bucks on this."

The laughter grew, getting louder and louder until it made something explode inside of him. He had had _enough_ of everyone's laughing.

"Guys!" He yelled, but no one listened. If anything they were laughing harder. He tried again, not even trying to disguise his frustration.

"Guys!"

Riley, still standing calmly and looking eerily un-Riley-like, let out a small sigh.

"Hey," he said quietly. No one listened. From the corner of his eye, Drew could see Armstrong making his way to the bus. Drew had never been more glad to see him.

"_Hey!" _Riley bellowed. He still somehow managed to sound calm. It was the same way parents shouted. Everyone finally went silent.

"This is our last game" Riley continued, his voice still strong. "We need to focus! Lets end strong and win this one. You with me?

No one spoke. Drew waited and waited. Someone was supposed to say something. Some _had_ to say something.

Then Drew realized who that someone was.

He shook his helmet in the air. "Let's do this!"

In an instant everyone joined in. Everyone else captured Tramblay's "yeahs" until it just became a sea of cheering. They chanted and whooped their way onto the bus. Riley nodded at him, walking to the back of the bus to sit next to Zane. Drew could feel Owen making eye contact with him from his seat. Drew ignored it, looking for K.C. then remembering that he wasn't there. He sat alone at the front of the bus, Armstrong eventually joining him. Drew was the loser who sat beside the teacher. This was all clearly Owen's fault. Stupid Owen.

Armstrong even let Owen lead defence in the first quarter, which just seemed like a huge slap in the face (or punch to the ribs, or glass door to the shoulder.) Drew sulked on the bench for a while, only half listening to Armstrong's half time speech. Bardell were trailing pretty badly, but Armstrong still did his "we need to work harder" speech. He had probably practiced it.

"C'mon, men," he exalted, "are you a team or aren't you?"

They very clearly _were_ a team. They had a uniform and everything.

"Riley," he said turning to an exhausted look Stavros. "You got anything to say to your team?"

Riley nodded, standing up and instantly grabbing the attention of everyone in the room.

"We're not just a football team," he said solemnly. "We're _panthers_."

A small cluster of people muttered in agreement.

"Now, I looked up panthers on Wikipedia," Riley continued. "And it turns out that they aren't social animals – they're very solitary creatures and get territorial and aggressive around other panthers. But I want you to forget that. We're a _team_ – a team of _panthers_."

Tremblay, of all people, cheered. "Yeah!"

"Are we gonna let Wikipedia decide our fate or are you gonna go out there and work together?"

"_Yeah_!"

"_Screw_ Wikipedia!"

"_YEAH_!"

"And coach," he added, turning to Armstrong. "I think Drew should start in the third quarter."

Drew's interest picked up at the sound of his name. The cheering died down; no one cared about screwing Wikipedia anymore.

"We're way ahead coach. I think we need to save our energy for the fourth."

It seemed like a thinly veiled way of saying that it didn't matter if Drew messed things up in the third quarter; they were so ahead that Riley could carry them in the fourth anyway. He didn't care, he was actually getting to _play_; he was going to help them win the season.

"You ready for this, Drew?" Armstrong asked, furrowing his brow at him.

"Sure," Drew said, trying to sound cool but failing at it.

"Then let's go out there and win this thing!"

Everyone stood up, beginning to cheer again, beside him, Zane grabbed Drew's shoulder, shaking it with encouragement. He became lost in a flurry of high five's and slaps on the back. He wasn't even are that he was shaking Owen's hand until Owen pointed it out.

"Glad we're cool now, bro!" he said, shaking Drew's hand with vigour.

"But-" Drew started, "I-"

He didn't bother trying to work out what he wanted to say, it seemed petty and stupid; they were a team of panthers.

And, despite what Wikipedia said, panthers stuck together.

.

oOo

.

Drew may not have really helped the team win; their victory was all but a given by the middle of the second quarter, but he still enjoyed the praise as the team celebrated on the bus home. At least he didn't help them _lose_; doing nothing productive was a million times better than doing something destructive. Apathy was always better than failure; everyone knew that.

He even sat with Owen on the bus ride home. He didn't want to tarnish a good day by spiting someone, even if they did deserve it. After they got off the bus, he could just ignore Owen until next year's season; _apathy was always better than failure _– even when it came in the form of being indifferent to someone rather than being aggressive towards them all the time.

"Fitz, me and a bunch of others are heading to The Dot after this," Owen said as they pulled into the school, "you should come."

"I can't," Drew lied, "history exam tomorrow."

"Sucks to be you," Owen said, choosing not to push it. Maybe he knew that it was an excuse and just decided to go along with it. Maybe he didn't want to tarnish a good day either.

They were pushed forward as the bus came to an abrupt stop in the parking lot. In the seat in front of Drew, Riley fell into Zane. Drew refused to believe it was an accident. He snuck off the bus before it got too PDA-heavy for his liking and spotted Mom's empty car by the front entrance. She must have still been in her PTA meeting.

Drew headed to the change room while everyone else stood cheering in the parking lot. Taking off his uniform, he realized that it was going to be the last time he wore it that year. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. After the summer, Riley would be gone and Drew would be starting quarterback; he'd probably even be team captain. He would win by default; Riley would still be a better player than him. Still - apathy was always better than failure. He left the change room before anyone else even arrived.

His hair was still wet as he wandered to the student council room to wait for Mom. Little droplets of water ran down the back of his neck, making him shudder.

He was surprised to see Adam leaning against a wall outside, playing a game on his phone and looking supremely bored.

"Heard you won," he said flashing Drew the quickest of smiled before going back to his game. "Congrats."

"Thanks," Drew said, rubbing the strip of cold water off his neck. "I thought you were going to The Dot."

"I am," Adam said, "I was just waiting for some people."

"Well, I'd probably just go home if I were you," Drew warned. "I heard Owen say that he was heading there with Fitz and some people."

"I know," Adam shrugged, "I'm going _with _them."

Drew repeated the words again in his own head, wondering if he had just misunderstood them the first time. It didn't work; it still sounded like Adam was saying that he was going to The Dot with Owen and Fitz.

"Come again?"

"I sat with Fitz at lunch," Adam said, turning his game off, shoving his phone back into his pocket and actually giving his attention to Drew. "He says he's over with it so… whatever."

"Oh," Drew scoffed. "I'm glad that Fitz is over with the fact that he harassed you now. Thank god for that!"

"It was supposed to be funny-"

"Well is wasn-" Drew started, but he stopped himself for some reason. "Are you actually listening to yourself right now?"

"You were the one who told me to go find cooler friends."

"I didn't mean _Fitz_," Drew said. "I meant like, I don't know-"

"_Of course you don't,_" Adam muttered. "Look, what's wrong with being the bigger man?"

"You're _not_ the bigger man," Drew said, his jaw clenched. "You're half his size!"

Adam looked down at the floor, his eyes narrowed.

"Whatever," he muttered, "you're worse than Eli."

"Well even Eli's not as bad as Fitz," Drew said, surprising even himself. "He might ditch you, but he's not a _total_ psycho."

Adam's head sunk down even lower, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "He called me the "G" word."

"Why did he call you gay," Drew asked, "because you wanted to have a guy's night or-"

"No," Adam sighed. "The _other_ "G" world"

Drew didn't know what the other "G" word was – he was stuck on "gay." He was pretty sure this was Riley and Zane's fault. Then it hit him. Hard.

"Oh."

His stomach sank; the "G" word was just as bad, if not worse, than the "F" word. There was no way Adam would make up with Eli now – even someone as annoyingly forgiving as Adam wouldn't let the "G" word slide.

He didn't know what to say to help. He was pretty sure that anything he said was going to make everything worse - it usually did. Saying nothing was the best strategy.

Apathy was always better than failure.

But this was the one situation where apathy was impossible.

.

oOo

.

Gracie had developed a weird habit of not rolling up her sleeves when she washed the dishes. It meant that she barley submerged the plates into the water when cleaning them, making the whole job take twice as long and Drew would eventually get annoyed and make her dry instead. Drew was convinced that this was her plan the whole time. Apart from Gracie's scheming, Drew quite enjoyed his time washing the dishes with her. It was their time to have top secret meetings and talk about stuff away from Mom's prying ears.

Only Gracie was doing her best not to talk to Drew. Instead she grumpily pulled at the sleeves of her cardigan as she waited to be handed dishes to dry.

"I don't get why you're mad at _me_ all of a sudden," Drew eventually said. "I'm not the one who was looking for any excuse to leave today."

She didn't even look at him. She grabbed the clean plate out of his hand and aggressively stated to dry it.

"I'm just looking out for you," Drew insisted.

"My dad comes over one day a year and you chase him away?" Gracie spat. "Thanks, you're a _real_ pal. You know, I'm never rude to your mom."

"Because my mom isn't a jerk."

"Well neither's my dad. He's under a lot of pressure, it's hard being locally famous."

Locally famous was an expression Gracie used a lot when talking about her dad. Drew always thought it was a stupid thing to say; Vancouver wasn't all that far from Victoria and he'd never heard anyone say "hey, you heard what that Scott Grearson's up to these days?" Drew could only assume that Gracie meant that his neighbours knew who he was. Drew's neighbours knew who _he_ was, sometimes they even wished him luck on his upcoming games, that probably made him just as "locally famous" as Scott apparently was.

"It's not that hard to pick up the phone every once and a while."

"I don't get you," she glowered. "You always rag on him for not making an effort and then when he _does_ show up you nag him until he wants to leave."

Drew didn't really have much of an answer for that.

"If he really cared about you then he wouldn't leave so easily," he muttered.

"And if _you_ really cared about me, you wouldn't keep trying to chase my _real_ family away!"

The water in the sink suddenly turned ice cold. It made the hairs on Drew's arms stand to attention. Even Gracie seemed to think it was too far as she suddenly dropped the fierce eye contact she had been using on Drew. He didn't even have a retort for it. He knew he wasn't her _real_ brother, he knew that blood was always going to be thicker than water.

And that was the thing that unnerved Drew the most; Gracie was _related_ to that guy – she was _part_ of him. Drew was just the kid of the guy her mom married. No matter how hard he tried to reason with her, he was always going to lose. The more Scott let her down, the harder she tried and the more Drew ended up being the bad guy.

He shut up and silently passed her the clean dishes as they washed what remained of Thanksgiving down the drain.

.

oOo

.

_Explain the developments in transport during the Agricultural Revolution and the subsequent effects for the agricultural industry around the world._

Drew didn't know what the agricultural industry was, let alone anything about the revolution that changed it. He had a look around the hall, everyone else had already started writing. Alli's nose was almost touching the paper she was so focused.

Drew couldn't even remember his candidate number.

His head was full of too many other things and none of them had anything to do the Agricultural Revolution – more the agro-Adam situation. He had left the house early that morning to head to the weight room at school, seeming quite glad that football season was over and it wouldn't be flooded with jocks anymore. Adam was exercising. _Willingly_. Something was very, very wrong. It was Fitz's doing, he _knew_ it. He had half considered telling Mom about Adam's new best friend, but eventually decided that it wasn't worth it; if he told on Adam, he's never tell Drew anything ever again. Besides, Mom was too busy complaining about the "awful" "sloppy" girl who opened the presentation at the PTA meeting. She still seemed to be in the camp that a Vegas night was inappropriate, but she got voted down, so she'd just have to live with it. A good party was what Drew needed to flush out the horror of exams.

_Exams_.

_History_, he reminded himself, _think about history_.

Okay… "transport" - transport meant cars; that he knew. He knew a little bit about cars, he could probably wing it if he just talked about how useful cars were to the world.

His vision started to narrow, tunnel visioning on the blank page starting back at him. It was history, he would probably have to say when the Agricultural Revolution was. Transport was probably a clue; cars hadn't been around for all that long, so it had to be in the last fifty years or something. Could it be really be considered history if it took place so recently? That seemed kind of stupid; why bother learning about something that people were still alive to_ remember_? He clicked and unclicked his pen a few times, but it didn't accomplish anything. He checked the clock. It had been fifteen minutes. He hadn't even filled in his name yet.

At least he _knew_ his name. That was a start.

He started shakily scrawling down the A for Andrew, when a loud ringing started echoing in his ears. He could have believed that it was just in his head if it weren't for the other people reacting to it.

"Oh my god!"

"Okay, everybody out," Perino bellowed over the sound of what Drew was just working out was the fire alarm.

Drew looked behind him, is growing tunnel vision suddenly pulling out again as he saw the smoke. A fire.

From amidst the chaos Alli had found him, linking her arm underneath his. Drew wondered if maybe finding Alli should have been _his_ first instinct too.

It wasn't a very big fire, and it smelled terrible, and no one really seemed all that worried about it. Alli groaned, confirming Drew's suspicions that it wasn't really a fire at all. She placed her free hand over her mouth.

"Who sets off a stink bomb during an exam?"

An amazing, amazing person. If Drew ever found him, he'd have to shake his hand.

The crowd picked up speed as they pushed through the congested doorway and into the hall. Other students, lucky enough _not_ to be sitting an exam, looked in around in confusion; where was the fire? Then the stench would eventually hit them and they too would push their way to the front of the school.

As he got into the fresh air, Drew started to breath again in relief. He was free from the unbearable stench and he had managed to postpone his exam, at least for a little while. Someone was obviously looking out for him.

"What do you think's going on?"

Alli pulled Drew's attention to another crowd forming outside in a large circle around the front entrance. People were cheering and gawking, some had phones out. It could only mean one thing.

A fight.

Curiosity taking over, Drew, still attached to Alli, created a gap for himself to see what was going on.

Fitz was curled up in a ball on ground, writhing in pain, wailing like a six-year-old girl. It was the most amazing thing Drew had ever seen. It was so much better than a stink bomb cancelling his exam. The hero, the man who had inflicted this justice on Mark Fitzgerald, was nowhere to be seen, like the stink bomb saviour, he had disappeared into the night (or afternoon. Whatever.)

In Drew's head this was somehow the same person; setting off the stink bomb that freed Drew from his history exam and then running outside and beating up the tool who had beaten up Drew. He didn't know who this guy was, but he was Drew's own personal Batman.

Mo Mashkour, standing infront of Drew and recording the whole thing on his phone, started explaining the situation to the girl beside him.

"He's been lying there for, like, five minutes now. Torres beat him up pretty bad."

"Hey," Alli said, smacking Mo on the arm indignantly. "Drew was in the exam hall, he had nothing to do with this!"

Drew didn't know whether do feel happy that Alli was sticking up for him, or annoyed that she was quashing the rumour that Drew was the only person in the whole school who had been able to beat Fitz in a fight. He wouldn't have minded people thinking that.

The corners of Mo's mouth slowly curled up and he let out a singular laugh; apparently scoffing that the notion that Drew would ever be able to win in a fight against Fitz. He knew what Mo was going to say even before he said it. It still managed to shock him when he heard the words, though.

"No, not _Drew_ Torres - _Adam_."

.

oOo

.

_Scott is named after the South Park/Terrance and Phillip character: he's the biggest dick in Canada! _

_In the next chapter: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Right?_


	39. Foils

_The chapter contains dialogue from the season 10 episode "All Falls Down (1)"_

* * *

><p><strong><span>Ch 39 - Foils<span>**

"So, Riley Stavros – captain of the football team – is totally gay for Zane?"

"Pretty much."

"Huh, figures."

Adam shrugged and continued to stir his milkshake. The Dot was full to capacity for the first time in a long time. It had picked up again since Fitz was sent running with his tail between his legs. The Dot had become a safe spot once more and everyone knew why - the milkshake was the third drink Adam didn't have to pay for.

"What do you mean?" Drew asked him, nudging the glass away from his straw and causing ice cream to fly onto Adam's nose.

"Well, it's _football_," Adam said, wiping his face.

"Yeah, that's why it's so surprising."

"Dude," Adam glared. "Football is second only to wrestling as the most homoerotic sport ever invented."

"What?" Drew scoffed. "Football's not gay."

"It kinda is," Adam said, nodding solemnly. "Not that there's anything wrong with that or-"

"No, it's not, it's all manly-"

"Manly meaning _deprived of women?_"

"Yeah!" Drew cheered before he realized he was being tricked. "I mean- no, no-"

"C'mon, bro: 'hey what position are you?' 'I'm a_ wide receiver_.' 'Oh, I'm a_ tight end_.' Seriously, you don't see the potential humour in that?"

"Well, I'm not either of those," Drew argued. "I'm a quarter back, I-"

"-Man the back quarters?" Adam grinned.

"No, I run really fast," Drew huffed.

"To avoid the guys who want to get on top of you in the mud."

"That's not how it goes… well it is, but you're explaining it wrong-"

"-_Oh, man, check out that defensive package_-"

"-That doesn't mean what you think it means-"

"-_You can be my wingman any time-_"

"-Dude, come on-"

"_-I've got a need. A need for speed-_"

"That's not even-" Drew spluttered. "That's _Top Gun_!"

"Oh yeah," Adam smiled. "Well, let's be honest, that's pretty gay, too."

"Uh, _Top Gun_ is _so_ not gay!" Drew said, shaking his head. "Besides, that's not what we were talking about - you're avoiding the subject. How did you do it?"

"Do what?" Adam said innocently.

"You know," Drew muttered, getting closer to him. "Beat up Fitz."

"I don't know," Adam confessed, "It was hardly _Punch Out_. I just knocked him down and got out of there."

"But… like… _how_?" Drew asked, now off his chair so that he could lean in closer. "What did you _do_?"

"Fight him?"

"No, but… did you throw sand in his eyes or something?"

"Yes," Adam deadpanned. "I never leave the house with out a pocket full of sand. Just in case."

"I just don't get it," Drew admitted. "I'm sorry. But… Fitz beat the crap out of me!"

"So?" Adam said, his shoulders tensing up in slight defensiveness. "Fighting's never been your strong suit – I beat you at play fighting all the time!"

"_Yeah_," Drew exasperated, "but that's because you have, like, a ridiculously low centre of gravity – you're impossible to knock over! You're like one of those weeble toys or something."

"Well then you already know how I beat Fitz," Adam concluded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It obviously _wasn't_. Play fighting wasn't the same as actual fighting; play fighting was all about knocking people to the ground, _actual_ fighting was about hurting the other person as much as possible. Fitz was writhing on the ground in pain; Adam didn't have a scratch on him. When Drew fought Fitz, he had a black eye and bruised ribs for _weeks_ – he couldn't even get a single punch in.

Was Drew just really _that_ bad at fighting? Was everyone laughing at him behind his back?

Nobody was _cheering_, that's for sure. He had helped to bring The Panthers to victory, and yet, there he was – the day of the school dance and everyone was talking about Riley's coming out and Adam's fight with Fitz.

Not even so much as a handshake or well done. Drew didn't get Degrassi at all.

"Fine," Drew muttered, throwing his napkin on the table and standing up, "be that way. Enjoy your free drinks."

"You're leaving already?" Adam asked. "You've got an hour until school starts!"

"Yeah, I said I'd get some study time in with Alli," Drew explained, grabbing his bag.

"You're still cramming for math?" Adam winced. "Good luck with that."

Drew felt himself wince back. Thanks to the stink bomb saviour (a feat Adam denied all knowledge of, but was obviously lying) all their exams had been pushed back, meaning Drew had a few more hours to find out what the agricultural revolution was before his history resit (farming - it wasn't even a _cool_ revolution!) and he almost felt good about his chances of passing. But he had no such luck with math; he was just going to have to suffer with math.

It only took him five minutes to regret leaving The Dot. Not only did studying not seem to be helping in the slightest, but any chance it _did_ have of helping was being severely diminished by Sav Bhandari dressed in and Elvis costume and telling people in a _terrible_ southern accent that they should get their tickets for Vegas Night. Honestly - who wore an Elvis suit and expected anyone to take them _seriously_? To add to the annoyance, Bianca DeSousa was lurking by the front desk, leaning over it in a way that she clearly knew would draw attention; her back was all arched and her too-small hoodie was riding up revealing just the tiniest hint of a tattoo. It was the corner of something red. A shoe? A wing? Maybe a petal, it looked like it could have been a rose-

"-Hey," Alli said, snapping her fingers over his face. "Do you want to watch my brother act like a moron or do you want to pass this math exam?"

"Uh," Drew said, trying to remember how to use words. "The second one."

"Okay," Alli smiled, "how do we simplify the equation?"

He looked at all the brackets and letters on the page. It looked more like someone had smashed their head against a keyboard than any actual math problem.

"Right," Drew started, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. "So the left side needs to match the right side."

"Uh-huh," Alli nodded.

"So…" Drew sighed. "There's a three beside the x on the left side of the equation, but not on the right side."

"And?" Alli said, obviously expecting him to say something brilliant. "You're almost there."

"Okay," Drew tried, "all I have to do is subtract three from the left side of the equation and then solve x."

Alli's smile suddenly became painfully unnatural.

"Erm," she said carefully, "maybe we can start with an easier question?"

"Or accept I'm going to fail," Drew groaned.

"You can do this, she said, pulling his arm ever more tightly over her shoulder. "You just have to focus."

Yeah, "focus" -_ that_ was Drew's problem. He was great at focusing; just as long as it was something he actually _liked_ focusing on, like how Alli's eyes got all big when she was trying to be encouraging.

"How about something else?" He asked pushing himself in for a kiss.

Alli pushed a finger infront of his face. "_One_ kiss."

She pulled him in and suddenly math didn't exist anymore. Exams didn't matter and Sav atrocious singing faded into nothingness in the background.

"_Ahem_."

That cough. Drew knew that cough from anywhere.

Oh no.

"Well, I'm assuming _this_ is why you're failing math," Mom said, gesturing towards Alli, who had pushed herself off Drew as quickly as humanly possible and was sitting small and sheepishly on the bench beside him.

"Mom," Drew stammered, "what are you doing here?"

"Emergency school board meeting," said Mom coolly. "I thought you came early to _study_."

"Alli and I were just taking a break."

Mom's eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh."

Beside Drew, Alli extended her hand out towards Mom, flashing a wide smile.

"Uh, nice to meet you Mrs. Torres-"

"You know," Mom said, ignoring Alli completely "that stink bomb gave you an extra day to study. Don't waste it."

She swung herself around and sauntered towards the Principal's office, passing Bianca and her tattoo on the way past.

Alli deflated on the bench. "Great. Now your mom thinks I'm some skank like Bianca who makes out with a different guy every week."

Drew put his arm around her. She unconsciously wriggled closer into him.

"No she doesn't," Drew insisted. "She just can't accept I suck at school."

Alli didn't respond, instead deciding to chew on her lip. If she wanted something to do with her lips, all she had to do was ask.

"So," he said, moving his face into closer, "where were we?"

Instead of joining in, Alli pushed his arm back towards his textbook.

"About to conquer quadratics," she sighed. "I won't be the reason you bomb this exam."

"_You_ won't be," Drew groaned, reluctantly picking up his pencil and starting at the page again. Why did Drew have to solve x anyway? Why couldn't someone else do it? If people knew the formula, why were they bothering Drew? Was it just for their own amusement?

"Okay," Alli said, shuffling over to look over Drew's textbook, "remember what we said about FOIL?"

"I should wrap some around my head to try and reverse the stupidity signals?"

"_Well, if it isn't the man of the hour!"_

Drew looked up to see who Sav was talking to. Adam walked through the front doors with a half-eaten (and probably complimentary) bear claw in his hand, gaining a hearty slap on the back from Elvis-Sav and small cluster of cheers from everyone else.

"How's it going Sugar A. Torres?" he asked, high-fiving Adam's non icing-covered hand.

"Great," Adam said with a self-satisfied grin. "Why are you dressed like Evel Knievel?"

"_Elvis_, my man!" Sav said. "Vegas Night? You're going, right? Sin City won't be complete without the Heavyweight Champion of the World making an appearance."

"I'm there," Adam nodded, leaving Sav to hand out flyers and walking over to Drew and Alli.

"Hey," Drew grumbled.

"Hey," Adam echoed. "Why is Mom's car outside?"

"_Skank hunting_," Alli said under her breath.

"Emergency school board meeting," Drew explained in a low voice, just wanting Adam to go away so he could get some work done without having to constantly tune out the ridiculous Adam Torres Fan Club.

"Then I'll probably just head for my science exam," Adam said, much to Drew's relief. "Mom plus school equals instant embarrassment."

Finally. A math problem Drew could understand.

"Actually," Alli said checking her watch, "I'll come with you. Might as well get science out the way, right?"

"You're leaving?" Drew said. "Who's going to help me with this stuff?"

"I think K.C.'s free," Alli offered, standing up and collecting her books. "He's good with this sort of thing."

Which wouldn't have been a problem if K.C. wasn't constantly flaking on him.

"Fine. Okay," Drew sighed. "Good luck."

Alli bent over, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"You too, bro," Drew added, looking over at Adam.

"Yeah, I'm not kissing you. Good luck with math."

He and Alli turned and walked down the hallway and out of sight, leaving Drew alone.

Quadratics. He could do this. He just had to work out what quadratics actually _were_ in the next two hours.

Another cheer broke out in the lobby, Drew half-expected to see Adam, milking it for all it's worth and taking another victory lap. But it wasn't Adam. Rather, Riley Stavros swaggered into the school, adorned in his Panther's jacket just in case anyone forgot that he had led the team to victory the day before. At least Drew left his jacket at home, he wasn't _that_ desperate for the recognition. Not _really_. It just would have been_ nice _to get a little appreciation every now and then.

Sav, who was really starting to get on Drew's nerves, greeted Riley at the front entrance, grabbing his hand and throwing it in the air.

"Presenting," Sav roared, "the _real_ king of Degrassi!"

Riley used his free hand to "humbly" wave the crowd to stop cheering so much. Drew spied Bianca in the corner of his vision, she wasn't cheering along with the rest of the drones. Instead she leaned her elbow on top of the reception desk, rested her chin on her hand and rolled her eyes at the whole ridiculous thing.

She spotted Drew staring and flashed him a quick mischievous grin. He smiled back before forcing himself to look back at his textbook. It made him feel guilty, but he wasn't sure why. Smiling wasn't a _crime_.

He tried to drown out Sav, still throwing the praise onto Riley as they both (thankfully) made their way out of the lobby and into the hallway (Sav telling Riley that he had his vote for king that night as if that was supposed to be some great honour or something.)

_Quadratics_. Quadratics quadratics.

And honestly, the only reason people were making a big deal about Riley was because he was _gay_ and good at football. And the only reason people were cheering on Adam was because he was _trans_ and won a fight. It was actually kind of offensive to be that condescending to the LGBT community, really. If Drew had won a won a football game or a fight, no one would even care, but if he did it while wearing lipstick, suddenly he'd be the hero of Degrassi! Drew won football games all the time, and maybe he didn't win fights very often, or ever, but he _tried_ and he was good looking and that should have made up for it. Where was _his_ bear claw and king nomination?

"What's with the face?"

K.C. threw his bag under the bench and sat down beside him, looking for too happy for someone in the middle of exams.

"Quadratics," Drew said, pointing to the page in front of him.

"Oh, hey that's not so bad," K.C. insisted, making Drew want to punch him in the face. "You remember FOIL?"

"What the hell is FOIL?" Drew yelled, causing people in the lobby to give _him_ some attention for a change.

K.C. cringed at the staring. "Maybe we should start from the beginning?"

"Yeah, sure."

K.C. grabbed Drew's spare textbooks from him and flipped to the first page of quadratics. He was acting like they were magically friends again all of a sudden despite K.C. disappearing off the face of the earth for days at a time.

"It was the big game the other day," Drew said as K.C. looked over the page Drew had been studying. "Where were you?"

"Busy," K.C. said, taking a pencil and setting up the textbooks. "And _speaking_ of the other day..."

Drew sat up, ready to take the praise he had been deprived off. It was better late than never, he supposed.

"Did your brother really beat up Fitz in the parking lot?"

The air that had swelled up Drew's chest suddenly escaped him.

"It wasn't that big a deal," Drew grumbled, placing one of the textbooks on his lap.

"_Yeah_ it's a big deal," K.C. insisted, widening his eyes in an irritating fashion. "I don't think anyone's ever beaten Fitz in a fight and the person who finally does it as a… uh… sophomore. A sophomore – Adam's only a sophomore."

"Can we just study already?" Drew asked, pointing to the pile of books beside them.

K.C. finally shut up and moved onto the stupid bracket things Drew was supposed to learn how to work out.

"Right, so the first exercise," K.C. pointed out. "Do you get that?"

"No."

"That's fine," K.C. lied. "We'll start from here."

"Great," Drew said. "How do I do that?"

"Okay, so for this one you just divide both sides of the equation by three-"

He had lost him already. Drew could see a figure walking up close to them just behind K.C.'s giant, stupid, beanie-covered head. Drew leaned to the side, seeing who K.C. was blocking.

Bianca was leaning against the wall, smiling at him much like she had been doing before. He wasn't sure what she wanted with him, but he wasn't going to complain-

"_Ow_," he yelped as K.C. whacked his arm with a pencil. "What? Sorry?

"Dude," K.C. urged, "The exam's in two hours, you have to learn this!"

"Believe me, I've tried," bemoaned Drew, collapsing back on the seat. "I just don't understand why my mom forces me to take university track math when I can barely handle long division."

Bianca, who could most definitely hear the whole thing and was probably thinking that Drew was the most pathetic idiot to ever exist, walked slowly over to them, throwing her purse of the spare seat beside Drew. She pressed her hand against the wall behind them, leaning over revealing her black low-cut top.

"I have a problem you could solve," she purred. "The zipper on my hoodie's stuck."

She pushed herself even closer to Drew. He tried to form something that sounded like words. _Anything_. But only spluttering noises came out.

"I guess I could take a look," he eventually managed to say.

He grabbed the zipper, being careful to touch the hoodie, _only_ the hoodie and _absolutely nothing_ underneath the hoodie. After a quick struggle (and a slight moment of panic when he feared he wouldn't fix it) he got it to zip up.

He felt good. Finally, someone who appreciated him a little bit. He waited for his thank you.

Instead, Bianca ran a hand through his hair, down along his face and then wrapped it around his chin, pulling it up to face her.

"How could I ever thank you?"

This was not a normal thank you. He probably should have said something, done something, moved her hand away – _anything. _She had to have seen him with Alli earlier; she was standing five feet away when she was kissing him. Maybe she was just the touchy-feely type.

"I'm, uh, sure you'll find a way," Drew said in a manner he hoped was cool (or at the very least not totally pathetic.)

She smiled, picked up her purse again and wiggled down the hallway. Drew was suddenly aware of his heart beating very fast. He looked back to K.C. who rolled his eyes at him and went back to studying without comment.

"What," Drew asked, his voice still shaky and excited. "We were just talking."

K.C. looked up at him gleefully. "Well, it looked more like flirting."

They both laughed, although Drew wasn't sure what was so funny. Talking, like smiling, wasn't a crime. There was nothing wrong with a little chivalry every now and then. Especially when you got rewarded for it.

And Bianca hadn't even said what his reward _was_ yet.

.

oOo

.

_Thnx 4 fixing my hoodie. The zip works just fine now. Wanna c?_

How Bianca had gotten his number Drew would never know, and why she thought sending him a picture with her hoodie on, zip down and nothing underneath was the best way to show him the zipper worked was just as much of a mystery to him.

It was very polite of her. Sort of. Maybe. But Alli had seen and she wasn't happy. Drew wasn't entirely sure she believed him when he insisted it wasn't a big deal, but he was going to stop it. Now. He had a girlfriend. He had a girlfriend. He had to tell Bianca that he had a _girlfriend_.

He found Bianca at her locker, taking a deep breath before charging towards her. She looked happy to see him (at least _someone_ was.)

"Did you get my text?" She asked.

"Yeah, I have a girlfriend," he said, not sure what he was supposed to do once he had told her this.

"So?"

It wasn't the answer he would have expected. It took him completely off guard. He wondered himself; "so?" Why _couldn't_ people give him their gratitude? He did something nice – he _fixed the zipper on her hoodie_. She would have walked around all day with a half open hoodie if it weren't for Drew. There was nothing wrong with expecting a reward for his good deed, even if Bianca's idea of a reward was perhaps… unconventional.

"So you can't be sending me sexy photos."

"You didn't like them?"

"No, I did. It's just… I, uh-"

"You have a girlfriend," Bianca offered.

"Yeah."

She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms behind his neck. He probably should have stopped her. Probably.

"Didn't seem like you have one this morning," she whispered. "Why should the biggest catch at school just settle for one girl?"

Her hand slid down his shirt, getting lower and lower. Drew, suddenly remembering what he was supposed to be doing, brushed them away before they got too low down.

"I like Alli," he insisted.

"I don't care," Bianca scoffed, puling her purse out of her locked and closing it behind her.

"Listen," she said, "change your mind, I'll be in the boiler room at four. No strings."

She brushed past him as she walked away, he could feel the hairs on his arms stand up sharply.

"Remember," she added, turning around to look at him, "What girlfriend knows won't hurt her."

She disappeared, leaving Drew trying to get his breathing back to a normal rhythm but failing. He had too much air in his lungs, he couldn't breathe in properly – there was no room to breathe in.

He made a beeline for the washroom, wanting to splash some cold water on his hot (and probably very red) face. He ignored Sav in the hallway, still dressed like Elvis, and encouraging people to vote for Riley and Zane as kings of the dance. He pushed past a group of niners blocking the washroom door and began to fill up the sink with cold water. Before he could even throw his face in, his phone beeped.

_Since you liked the front so much… B xxx_

So it _was_ a rose on her lower back after all.

.

oOo

.

He looked up at the clock above the door of the exam hall. Three thirty – he had half an hour to make up his mind.

It should have been an easy decision. He liked Alli, he really did. But he didn't want to be anywhere near her for a while and she was so pleased with how their math exam went and she was so much smarter than him and he knew he failed and she wouldn't stop _talking_ about it. He needed to distract himself - from exams, and football and fights and everything else. What was so wrong about wanting to feel good about himself for a change anyway?

But Alli. She had helped him study all morning, she was so good about the sexy texts from Bianca, she was perfect, she really was. She wouldn't hook up with strangers in the boiler room – she was better than that.

But that didn't necessarily mean that _Drew_ was better than that.

At least K.C. was there to distract him. If he could occupy his mind for the next half-hour, he'd be fine.

"C'mon," he said to Drew as they walked out of the exam hall. "Show me the pictures of Bianca again."

Well, _he_ was no help. Drew sighed as he passed K.C. his phone.

"Damn, those ratios are _so_ much nicer than the ones on that paper," K.C. grinned. At least K.C. had an excuse for ogling, he was dating _Jenna_ (at Drew was _pretty_ sure K.C. and Jenna were still together. K.C. had been so absent recently that Drew felt like he knew nothing about K.C.'s life anymore.) Drew had Alli and Alli was amazing.

"Yeah," Drew muttered as he took his phone back, "well you don't have those ratios throwing themselves at you."

"She's not _throwing_ herself at you," K.C. insisted. "This is just what Bianca does. That boiler room has seen a lot of dudes, dude."

"No," Drew said, "she said I was the catch of the school."

K.C. scoffed.

"And you think you're the first guy she's said _that_ to? Trust me, I know Bianca a lot better than you do."

They turned the corner to the main hallway. It was abandoned. Apparently most normal people didn't hang around their school after their last exam. Then again, most people weren't given an invitation to the boiler room by Bianca DeSousa.

"I don't get what your problem is anyway," K.C. said. "Your team just won the league, you just got the biggest cake walk of a math exam you could ask for – one that just so happened to have everything you had just studied in it. You have a date to the school dance tonight with a smart, pretty girl and, on top of all that, Bianca DeSousa just decided that _you're_ the flavour of the week. Be a little grateful, Drew. Seriously, how much more of an ego boost do need until you're happy."

Every word that spewed out of K.C. Guthrie's stupid know-it-all mouth just irritated Drew further and further. How was any of that supposed to make Drew feel _grateful_? How was being a benched, invisible, stupid, weakling who couldn't even get a single punch in during a fight supposed to make him happy? How was his ego supposed to be inflated when Riley was a better football player than him, and Adam was a better fighter than him and everyone in the world was better at math than him, and no one even cared that he tried his best and Bianca was so ridiculously hot. He couldn't even think straight. If K.C. could just shut up for one second-

"Hey, Torres!"

Drew looked up to K.C., but he wasn't calling him. He was looking down the hallway at an approaching Adam. Of _course_ Adam had to be there.

"Man, I have wanted to give Fitz a good punch in the face for years," he grinned, high fiving Adam as he met them in the middle of the quiet hallway. "You're my _hero_, dude!"

"Thanks," Adam said, "it was nothing."

"Yeah _right_ it was nothing," K.C. cheered annoyingly. "I would have paid good money to see that in person."

Adam shrugged, pretending to be modest, but on the inside he was probably feeling pretty pleased with himself.

"Listen," K.C. said, nodding towards the front entrance. "I gotta run, but we should totally hang out in Vegas tonight. See you later, bro. You too, Drew!"

He high-fived Adam again and walked away. Apparently he and Adam were "bros" now. Great.

"Later," Adam called after him before turning back to Drew. "So, how did the math go?"

"How do you _think_ it went," Drew grumbled. "It was all about… trains and finding the volume of a sphere or whatever."

"Well that doesn't sound _too_ bad," Adam insisted. "At least you got a pretty tame paper."

"Yeah," Drew muttered. He was starting to wonder if a _pre-schooler_ could have aced his exam – everyone else apparently could. "What did _you_ have?"

"Nothing," Adam grinned. "I was a free agent after science – well… scholastically speaking, anyway…"

"What?" Drew asked. He was even having trouble understanding _English_. _Adam's _English at that – even when Adam went off on one of his weird, obscure tangents, Drew could at least follow.

"Clare's going to Vegas Night with Fitz," Adam explained, rolling his eyes. ""Eli's kind of pissed – I think he may try to pull something."

"What, like fight him?" Drew said, but immediately regretted. He didn't think he could handle the added shame of _Ghoulsworthy _being a better fighter than him.

"Nah, Fitz kicked his ass last time," Adam said nonchalantly, making Drew's ribs sting unexpectedly. "He'll probably do something unnecessarily complex and symbolic. Probably Shakespearian. Poison might be involved. Or fencing."

Drew didn't smile. He was starting to feel like he was the punch line in a long, elaborate joke that everyone was in on apart from him.

"Besides," Adam added, grinning. "If Fitz tries anything, I'll deal with him-"

"Will you just shut up about Fitz already?" Drew grumbled. "I'm so _sick_ of everyone talking about Fitz and Riley and math!"

"Hey, it was just a joke-"

"-I don't care," Drew huffed, not really talking to Adam, or anyone in particular – not that anyone cared, anyway. "You know what _else_ happened this week? My team won the season – I _helped_ my team win the season. And does anyone care? No. It's all about how Riley was _so brave_ and how you were _so awesome_."

Adam looked more amused than anything else.

"Dude, lighten up-"

"Don't tell me to lighten up," Drew complained. "I busted my ass all semester for that team; I got up early on weekends, I practiced in the rain, I sat on the bench game-after-game and watched everyone else start but me! And I _would_ have started if I used the dirt I had on Riley, but I didn't-"

"-Wait, hold up," Adam said over his ranting. "The _dirt_?"

Drew didn't say anything. He was very aware of how heavy his breathing was. His face felt very hot.

"You _told_ me you had something on Stavros," Adam said slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Back when you were trying out - you said you had a plan to make sure you got QB1 over him."

He stood in front of Drew, forcing him to stop walking.

"Did you _know_?

Drew didn't answer that question, he didn't have to. He suddenly felt very small.

"You threatened to out Riley?"

Drew had never seen such a look of disgust on Adam's face before. He suddenly wished that they could start talking about his math exam again.

"I was never going to actually _out_ him," Drew insisted, trying to keep his voice steady. "I was just going to scare him-"

"Hell _yeah_ it would have scared him," Adam said manically. "Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to worry about someone outing you?"

His expression changed for disgusted to hurt. Drew preferred disgusted.

"Of course you don't," Adam spat, "that would involve _thinking_. You know, you think you're better than people like Bianca and Fitz, but at least they own up to the low stuff they do. You pretend like you're noble or whatever. You're just as bad as them."

He started to stomp away towards the library, but he stopped himself and turned around once again.

"Actually, no, you're _worse_ than them, because you try to sneak out of any responsibility – it's _pathetic_. _That's_ why you lost QB to Riley. That's why you lost that fight to Fitz. Because you're a total loser."

He didn't bother humouring Adam by going after him. He didn't want to be anywhere near his stupid smug face. Instead Drew stormed away in the opposite direction towards the front entrance.

The cool air made him realize how much he was sweating. So he was _total_ loser now? He had gone from "favourite person" to "loser" in less than a month. He didn't care what Adam thought anyway, he was only is whiny little brother. It didn't matter. He had plenty of other people who didn't think he was a loser. He would even be able to name one if he was given enough time to think about it.

One person. One person who didn't think he was second best, or pathetic, or stupid, or incompetent. Just one.

Someone who thought he was the biggest catch in school.

Someone who was willing to show him their appreciation.

Just as long as he still had time.

He checked his phone. _3:56._

.

oOo

.

He checked his phone. _4:13. _

Thirteen minutes? Was that all? What that _bad_? He didn't really have a frame of reference.

_She scooped her hair over one shoulder, kneeling down until she was eye level with his belt._

_"Just relax okay?"_

He was worried about enjoying himself too much, or, more to the point, too quickly. If Bianca had been to the boiler room with a lot of guys, she probably had a _very_ good frame of reference. She could probably set up a little score chart. Drew didn't want to rank low on that chart. He had to be good at _something_.

_He couldn't think of something too sexy. He'd mess it up if he thought of something too sexy._

_But what did he think of instead? Sport stats? His grandmother?_

_Oh no, he couldn't think of his grandmother while Bianca DeSousa was peeling off his belt. That would be the most wrong thing on the planet._

He felt weird. Not that he didn't feel _good_ – it was undoubtedly good. Just… weird. It was a private, intimate thing and now he was wandering the hallways of Degrassi all alone.

_Unsexy thoughts, unsexy thoughts. Ignore the girl undoing your fly_

_FOIL: First, Outside, Inside, Last. That stupid bracket thing K.C. had taught him about. That wasn't exciting in the least. Think of that. _

_To multiply two binormal things, you have to break up the equation in order-_

_-Should he have showered first? He had been anxious and sweaty all day. What if he was gross?_

_If Bianca did think he was gross, she certainly wasn't letting on._

_FOIL._

_First-_

_"You ever done this before?"_

_"Uh," Drew considered lying, but couldn't really see how that would help him in any way._

"_It's okay," she smiled. "You're in good hands."_

_He tried to relax. Focus._

_First: Take the first part of both brackets and multiply them together._

_She ran her hand up the inside of his leg, sending a shiver all the way up his body. Every part of him stood to attention; his shoulders, the hair on the back of his neck…. other things…_

_He wasn't going to be able to focus for much longer._

He walked through the dark, abandoned halls as he made his way outside. It was eerie in the dark – like the place was haunted or something. He wondered what Bianca was doing. She had left him to compose himself in the boiler room after they were done, brushing her hand through his hair as she left. Drew was going to take that as a good sign.

_Outside-_

_-At least his zipper wasn't as stuck as Bianca's had been-_

_Outside: the first part of the first bracket and the second part of the second bracket have to be multiplied-_

_"You ready?" she asked._

"_Sure_."

"_Great. Here goes."_

_UNSEXY THOUGHTS! UN. SEXY. THOUGHTS._

_Inside-_

_-He blinked furiously. His heart shot up into his throat, causing his neck to tense up so hard the tension shot all the way round to his shoulders and down to his spine, radiating down into his-_

_**INSIDE**: The, uh, when the middle of the bracket... does… something and it all equalizes the thing, or…_

_There was no going back now. They had reached a point of no return. He couldn't just turn around and leave. Bianca pressed her free hand up against the wall. His hands. What was Drew supposed to do with his hands!? They were just hanging there like dead weight. He half considered placing them on Bianca's head, but that just seemed rude. He ran one of them through his hair; it felt greasy from the sweat. _

He could see the light shining in though the glass doors, blinding Drew with a brightness he hadn't reaccustomed himself to yet. He almost didn't feel right going outside into the clean fresh air and bright sunlight. Standing in his dark, creepy, lonely school felt far more "right" than going outside into the world felt. He couldn't really stand there forever, though. People would be getting ready for the dance soon and Drew really, really wanted to take a shower when he could. He wanted to wash off the majority of his day. The parts of it before four o'clock anyway.

_Last-_

_Bianca flipped her hair back, letting out a satisfied sigh. Drew rested his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. He had never felt so relaxed in his life. He was surprised his legs were still supporting him at this point. _

_Last: When the bracket-_

_Ugh, who cared?_

_Bianca stood back up, pulling her wild hair into a ponytail, cheeks slightly flushed but still looking impossibly cool despite what had just happened._

"_Was it good for you?" She asked, pulling at the collar of his shirt._

"_Uh," Drew said, his voice sounding completely alien to him, like it wasn't his own, "yeah, it was great. Thank you."_

_Bianca smiled. _

"_I don't often hear "thank you." Thank you yourself. It was fun."_

_She shrugged and ran her hand through his hair._

"_I'll let you get ready," she whispered. _

He eventually committed to going outside. He had to face the world at some point.

He saw a small figure sitting on the steps. He didn't want to face the world any more.

"I've been looking for you," Adam said, hands shoved into his pockets. "Mom's running late – the meeting overran, so…"

Drew didn't want to look at him. Apparently Adam didn't want to look at Drew either. Did he know? Could he tell?

"Listen," Adam sighed. "I'm sorry."

Drew felt himself stare at him for a few seconds. He couldn't work out what Adam was sorry for. He was struggling to remember anything prior to thirteen minutes ago.

"I shouldn't have said you were worse than Fitz and Bianca," Adam continued. Drew felt his heart pound aggressively at her name. "You're not. You could have told people about Riley, but you didn't."

"It's fine," Drew mumbled, still not wanting to commit to looking at him. The guilt was starting to set in and he didn't like it. "Whatever."

"No, it's not," Adam persisted. "You're not loser, I was just mad."

It was making Drew feel like a _gigantic_ loser. Much more than the argument in the hallway had made him feel.

"C'mon," he said, ushering Adam down the steps, "I feel like walking home anyway."

"Cool," Adam nodded. "Where did you go anyway? I've been looking for you for ever."

Drew grinned at him

"Ah, that's a secret," he said furtively. "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, remember?"

"_Ah_," Adam mimicked, " but this isn't really Vegas – it's Degrassi. Nothing stays secret for long here!"

* * *

><p><em>In the next chapter: Drew is surprised to learn that his actions have consequences. Who knew?<em>


	40. Drewche

So um… hi. It's been a while. How ya doing?

And it's been a while for a couple a reasons. First of all… yeah I didn't like the way they chose to write Adam off the show. Like… at all. I felt it came across as lazy, poorly thought out and really disrespectful towards the character (both in the writing and in the way the show runners kind of sort of lied and joked about it then tried to trivialise the whole thing. I initially put it down to dickishness, but in hindsight it was probably just plain old misguidedness. Ghoulsworthy would probably say there's a Razor that explains this. Stupid Ghoulsworthy…) And for a while I would try to write the next IAWAB chapter and just go "aarrrgh… c-plot… behind shopping montage… writer's twitter… "hilarious episode"… it was so STUPID!"

So I gave it a breather for a bit, which was probably good because the next chapters would have probably come across as bitter and huffy, and no one deserves to read my grudgy grumpiness. This is a happy story about brotherly love and stuff!

Then I got an internship on top of being a full-time student and a part time supermarket monkey and doing maid of honour duties for my sister, which meant I was getting roughly negative six hours of sleep a night (which meant causing a tear in the space-time continuum, which is quite bad.)

AND THEN I collapsed in class and was hospitalised and hooked up to heart monitors because they thought I had a heart condition for a while (thankfully I probably don't!) Turns out internship PLUS Uni PLUS work will just wear you out after a while and your body will punish you for it. I'm pretty much fine again now!

SO LET'S DO THIS THING!

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 40 – Drewche<span>**

"You are grounded. You are so incredibly grounded. And you won't be _un_grounded until I say so!"

Mom paced the basement, her hair blown upright with fury, her face an unnatural shade of scarlet. Drew just sat on the sofa, trying to make himself as small as possible. He was still wearing his stupid hat and he was aware of how much of an asshat it made him look in this situation, but he didn't want to take it off. He didn't want to make any sudden movements. He just hoped that if he shrunk into the chair deep enough, he could disappear there forever, and there he'd stay – Drew the sofa boy. At least he'd always be near his Xbox, even if he'd be too small and sofa-cushion-bound to play it.

"Okay," Drew whispered, sounding about five years old and feeling just as childish.

Mom ran her fingers through her massive frizz of hair.

"And…" she said, holding up a threatening finger, "we're going to start going back to mass. All of us."

"_What?"_ Said a voice listening in from the door upstairs. "_That's crap!"_

"Adam, go to your room!" Mom bellowed in the direction of the door. Drew couldn't make out the mutterings other than the words "unfair" and "dumbass" as Adam stopped eavesdropping and stomped up the stairs.

Mom pushed her hands on the top of head. It didn't help the hair situation much, it just puffed out where her fingers ended. She pushed out a gust of air. It was quiet for a minute and Drew didn't dare break the silence even though he hated it. Mom shook her head.

"I just…" she said, sounding drained. "I just don't know what would possess you to do this."

The hurt and confusion in her voice panged Drew far more than the anger had. He pulled the stupid hat off his head, turning it anxiously in his hands, staring it with such intensity, he probably could have made it burst into flames if he tried hard enough (and had superpowers.)

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice still small and weak. "I don't think sometimes. I'm stupid. I'm stupid, I've always been stupid and I'm sorry."

Mom's head fell backwards, apparently her neck just couldn't hold it upright anymore.

"You're not stupid, Drew," she sighed, throwing her head back to its normal position, "you just do these stupid things sometimes."

"Same thing, though isn't it? Forrest Gump said-"

"I don't care what Forrest Gump said," Mom barged in. She sat beside him on the sofa. "You just need to think with your head sometimes instead of thinking with your-"

"_Oh my God,_ Mom, what the hell-"

"-_Heart_, Drew," Mom said, sounding a little bit amused, which was horrifying because that implied that she knew what Drew was talking about. "You're all heart, Drew Torres. Always have been. But thinking with your heart is a really good way of getting it hurt."

She ruffled his hair. He could tell that it was flat and sweaty from the hat-wearing. And probably the shame, too.

"Ok," Drew said, finally able to look her in the eye. "Does this mean I'm not grounded anymore?"

Mom smiled sweetly and titled her head. The dreaded raptor tilt.

"Not a chance, mister. You're not seeing the light of day until you graduate."

.

oOo

.

Drew didn't bother trying to call Alli that night. He had already faced the wrath of one shouting woman and one was enough for a lifetime, let alone two in one evening.

He even managed to show enough restraint to not get in touch with her first thing Saturday morning (but he would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed to see she hadn't left any messages herself.)

(And then there was that part of him that was equally disappointed to see that Bianca hadn't done the same.)

He rolled himself out of bed and dragged himself into the hall, determined that breakfast would fix at least a little bit of his problems.

"…_and you're saying we all have to go to mass again?"_

Drew froze. Dad. Of course, it was Saturday; he'd be having breakfast instead of dashing off to the office.

No. Drew couldn't face him. Not yet. It would be too humiliating, he turned to hide back in his room, where there were no disappointed fathers.

Right on cue, Adam, the Crown-Prince of Inconvenient Timing, trudged out his room, one eye still shut, his hair somehow even more vertical than Mom's was the night before.

He made a grunt that Drew roughly translated into "morning."

"Hey," he said, sounding more sheepish than his pride wanted him to. "Sorry about the… mass thing."

"Whatever," grumbled Adam, sounding more sleepy than seething, "I'm just surprised that _I_ wasn't the heathen who needed the fear of God put back into this family. I can't believe you were the sinful straw that broke the camel's back."

"Wait really?" Drew said, slightly stunned. "I kind of though you would be mad and not want to talk to me for a week and be all passive-aggressive and stuff."

"What makes you think I'd do that?"

"Twelve years in the industry of living with you?"

Adam seemed to ponder this thoughtfully for a moment. "Okay, fair enough. I just figured… you're already being punished enough, I guess."

Drew shrugged. "A grounding and volunteering isn't _that_ bad."

Adam's face turned into an uncomfortable grimace. He tried, too late, to twist it into a smile, but that made the whole expression look much worse.

"_What_," Drew said in alarm, "what do you know?"

Adam tried to broaden his forced smile. It likened him to someone whose mouth was being pried open for a reluctant root canal.

"Just…" he said hesitantly, "just… don't go on FaceRange for a while. Or ever."

He started to back away slowly, as if sudden movements would cause Drew to pee all over the rug and start barking at the houseplants.

"Why, what's on FaceRange?"

"I'm getting waffles now."

"Adam, what's on FaceRange. _What's on FaceRange_?!"

"Nothing." Adam lied, pointing towards the stairs. "I'm going to try and argue that us all going to mass right now would contradict your being grounded."

"That's genius," Drew said in awe. Every so often, Adam was quite amazing.

"It's purely selfish," Adam grinned as he disappeared down the stairs. "No FaceRange."

"I promise," Drew nodded. "No FaceRange."

As soon as Adam was out of view, Drew ran back to his room, turned on the laptop and logged onto FaceRange.

At first, Drew couldn't see anything other than pictures from Vegas Night; people in feather boas and sequins, a few Elvises (Elvesi? Evli?) But further obsessive scrolling revealed a few stray statuses about exams being over, the "stabbing" incident, which totally didn't actually happen and the boiler room incident, which did.

He saw his name appear on a status from Anastasia Prima from the Power Squad.

**Anastasia Prima**: Note to self - Remind me never to into a dark room with Drew Torres. Boiler room herpes is SO not a good look for Winter Break. Gross! (26 likes, 11 comments)

Drew's face grew hot and tingly with a fresh wave or horror. He knew that he should have just stopped right there. Turned off the computer and had some delicious waffles instead of punishing himself.

So, naturally, he expanded the eleven comments to read.

**Chantay Black**: Urgh, tell me about it Ana. I said it from day 1. The boy is a ttly a MANWHORE! (3 likes)

**Jenna Middleton**: LOL! xxxx (1 like)

**Anastasia Prima**: Poor Alli tho.. that's what happens with a manwhore meets a DeFloozy… (5 likes)

**Kaylee McGhee**: I rememba u saying he was douche Chantay hunni. Right as always xxx (2 like)

**Anastasia Prima**: Douche… more like DREWCHE! (11 likes)

**Chantay Black**: DREWCHE! OH MY GOD! LMFAO! (2 likes)

**Kaylee McGhee**: LOL! XXXX (2 likes)

**Chantay Black:** Why is that the only decent guys on the football are gay. So unfair (7 likes)

**Anastasia Prima**: Tru. I love Ziley tho. (4 likes)

**Jenna Middleton**: TEAM ZILEY (2 likes)

**Kaylee McGhee:** WE WANT ZILEY BABIES! (2 likes)

**Riley Stavros**: …Wat? (9 likes)

He closed the laptop over before he could read anymore. So now he was Drewche. This was easily the worst nickname he had ever been given. Even worse than the time he sat on a huge wad of gum in grade three and the teacher had to cut his pants off to get him off the chair and everyone called him "Bazooka butt" for a month. Actually worse than that.

His stomach started to grumble with annoyance. There were people at that school who hazed him and threw his brother through a door and tried to stab people and were Ghouslworthy and _he_ was Drewche?

He suddenly felt too indignant to hide from breakfast. If he was going to seethe, he certainly wasn't going to do it on an empty stomach. He marched down the stairs with as much purpose as he could muster, he chest puffed out.

And then _instantly_ deflated when he actually saw the rest of his family sitting at the breakfast table.

Dad didn't look at him right away, or at least Drew didn't think Dad was looking at him, Drew was too busy staring intently at his own toes. He slunk into the nearest chair and proceeded to eat a pancake in silence. No one spoke for a while, but every so often someone would clear their throat or squeak their knife across their plate and it just made everything ten times worse. Eventually, Dad cleared his throat, only this time with definite purpose. Drew prepared himself for something awful and shameful, but Dad instead turned his attention to Adam.

"Hey, I need my best assistant lawyer for a case."

Adam perked up. He and Dad quite often enjoyed playing lawyer over the breakfast table. It almost always went over Drew's head and he had long learned that it was better just to keep eating and let them fight crime together.

"Here's the story: without getting into specifics, a big name real estate firm are building luxury houses just outside Hamilton and they've sub-contracted a local construction company to do the building."

"Okay," Adam said, nodding his head.

"The build work is going fine, the first dozen or so houses are complete and then there's a downpour – the whole main road is flooded and no one can get into work, no one can get to the site or the equipment; they're totally closed off."

"Uh-huh."

Dad waved his fork around while he spoke, conducting an invisible orchestra playing a silent soundtrack to his story. "The rain causes a massive mudslide and two of the diggers crash into the completed houses. Three completely destroyed, and five damaged beyond repair."

"Yikes."

"Real Estate Company wants to sue the construction company for criminal damage to the property."

Adam leaned in. "How much?"

"I can't go into specifics, but the technical term for it in my line of business is: _a lot!_ Do they have a case?"

"For _criminal_ damage to property? No."

"But their houses were destroyed by the construction company's equipment."

"But the construction guys weren't even there," Adam argued. "They didn't _want_ it to happen."

"But they could have prevented it if the diggers hadn't been left on a slope during wet weather. Isn't that recklessness?"

"They couldn't have known that there was going to be a huge mudslide. They couldn't get to the diggers to move them. They were stuck with a bad situation."

"They could have moved all the equipment off the site every night and brought it back every morning," Dad offered. "Anything could have happened when the workers weren't there. The forecast predicted rain; they could have moved the equipment as a precaution. Their lot was only ten or so miles away. It would only take a few hours to move all the diggers and forklifts and loaders and bulldozers there and back every day."

"But it's unreasonable to ask them to drive a bunch of big slow machines to a job and back every day. The real estate company would probably complain about all the time being wasted by moving the equipment so often. They can't win."

"Could they have done more to prevent it from happening?" Dad asked.

"Sure-"

"-But you don't think they should be sued for criminal damage to property?"

"No, that's going too far. They didn't cause the damage to happen, the rain did. Criminal damage implies some sort of intent, and there wasn't any."

"What do we call that in law?" Dad asked, now pointing his fork behind his shoulder as if some invisible board was behind him. "When we examine whether or not there was intent?"

"Mens rea?" Adam answered. "Guilty mind."

"Exactly," Dad smiled, creating a tick in the air with his fork. "Always look for the mens rea when examining a case."

"Like if I accidentally picked up someone else's phone thinking it was mine. I shouldn't be found guilty of theft."

"That's right," And suddenly Dad's speak became slow and very deliberate. "And the person who lost their phone was probably really upset when their phone went missing, but you didn't mean to cause them any distress. You weren't trying to wrong someone, you just made a careless mistake."

"Like…" Adam said, matching Dad's slow and deliberate tone, even leaning his head towards Drew's direction, "if someone has a terminal case of _the stupid_, and they screw something up without trying to, you can't really treat them like the bad guy."

"Lawyers tend not to call it "a terminal case of the stupid, but, yes, that's the idea."

"Okay," Adam nodded, "what a _very interesting case_."

"It is," Dad said, "don't you agree, Drew?"

Drew turned, slightly startled for a second; he was never usually invited into the lawyer talks.

"Uh…"

"If someone does something hurtful, but didn't actually _mean_ to hurt anyone, we shouldn't treat them as if it was deliberate."

Drew felt a little bit dazed for a second. "Well, that person would probably feel really, really bad and embarrassed about it."

"Exactly," Dad said, he had a way of being warm without making Drew feel like a child. It was one of the best things about Dad. "Can you pass the grapefruit juice?"

Drew did so with as much enthusiasm as grapefruit juice-passing could entail. With one conversation, not even said to Drew, Dad had made everything better.

But Drew had no idea how he did it.

"So does this mean-"

"No, you're still grounded until you mother says so."

.

oOo

.

Drew now knew what he had to do. Dad had made it so abundantly clear.

He had to call Alli, tell her the digger story and that she _had_ to forgive him because there was no mens rea. It was so obvious!

Of course, he would still have to give it a week for her to cool off (and for the FaceRange statuses calling him "Drewche" started to disappear from the front page) but he could do that. He was grounded until the end of time, it wasn't like he could get himself into even more hot water before then.

Or at least that's what he thought before Mom brought home The Uniforms.

Everyone at school was going to blame him for this, he just knew it. It was his fault that the lockdown was happening and it has his mom who voted for the idea. They'd never stop calling him Drewche. Ever.

And, honestly, they weren't _that_ bad. Drew had seen a lot worse. Yeah, the khakis were a little geeky, but the polo shirt was okay; he wore polo shirts enough when he got the choice. And the red wasn't a terrible color. At least it wasn't-

"Purple," Adam seethed, staring at his new uniform hanging from the front of his closet. "I _hate_ purple."

"Come on," Drew said, hoping that Adam's reacting to the uniforms wasn't the same as everyone else's reaction, "they aren't that bad."

"They are," Adam declared, "they really, really are. It _had_ to be purple. I'm going to look like The Joker."

"Or, you know," Drew offered, "Willy Wonka."

"That's not better, Drew!" Adam groaned and crashed onto the bed, his nostrils flared. "You just _know_ Mom is doing this to get at me. It's just so she can control what I wear again."

It shouldn't have made Drew feel better about Adam's apparent suffering, but it was comforting to think that Mom was getting the blame and not him.

"At least everyone will be wearing it, right?"

But Adam apparently wasn't listening, he was too busy making something that was definitely about Drew definitely about Adam. A gift he had possessed since childhood. "And I was _just_ starting to get actual clothes I liked, you know? And now I had to walk about – _in public_ – in a short-sleeved, form-fitted, Degrassi purple polo shirt."

"That's almost a son-"

"I _know_ it's almost a song!"

"Relax, Adam. Why so seriou-"

"Don't you dare," Adam sat up, pointing a dangerous finger. "Just wait until the rest of the school sees these."

Drew stopped laughing. "The rest of the school haven't seen these yet?"

"Nope," Adam whined. "Mom's PTA privileges got us a set a day early. Lucky us."

"So no one else knows we're getting uniforms."

"Not until tomorrow. We suffer alone for another 24-hours-"

"-Yeah, whatever, I've got to go."

Drew ran out of Adam's room and down to the basement, the best place to get some privacy. It was one day shy of the week he had told himself to wait, but he didn't have the time. He had to get Alli to forgive him _now _before she found out she'd forced to wear khakis until graduation.

He didn't even wait until he got his breath back to dial. He had to talk to her. Right now. Before it was too late.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

And finally it answered.

"_The number you are trying reach is currently unavailable. To leave a message press one-"_

He didn't wait for the other options. He waited until the beep, unsure of what he was going to say but knowing in his heart that he would know exactly what to do when the moment came.

_Beep._

"Hey Alli, it's me, it's Drew. But you probably already know that. Uh… listen, I'm… just really, really sorry about what happened. I can't stop thinking about how I hurt you, but I didn't mean to hurt you. Like… if you had a digger and it rained and destroyed your house, would you sue the digger? No… because it's, like… it's called mens rea and it means I didn't want any of this to happen. And… I said I'm sorry already, but I'm saying it again because I'm really, really, _really_ sorry. And I think you look really hot in purple. Okay. Bye. I'm sorry. Bye"

He took a deep breath as he hung up. He couldn't really remember what it was he just said, but he meant every word and he was pretty sure he said he was sorry at least once. He sat on the basement steps, waiting for her to reply.

And he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And then he couldn't wait anymore. He went into his messages and found the last conversation he'd had with Alli (it was from Alli, just a few hours before Vegas Night: "_What RU wearing 2night? XXX_" He hadn't replied. He'd been in the boiler room with Bianca.) He started a new conversation.

_Hi. Did U get my msg?_

He was just about to put his phone back in his pocket when it vibrated. She had replied straight away. That _had_ to be a good sign. She wanted to talk to him. He could feel his face break into a grin even before the read what she had-

_The Number You Are Trying To Reach Is No Longer In Service_

She had blocked him. That was it. It was over. It was really over.

"You're kind of in the way."

Adam tried to barge past Drew on the stairs, but Drew was bigger and heavier and seemed unable to move as the world fell apart around him.

"Dude?" Adam tried, "I said you're kind of in-"

And before Drew knew what was happened, he had started to cry.

"Whoa," Adam said, starting to slink back up the stairs, "are you actually crying right now?"

"She…" he tried to say, but his breath was heaving and all over the place. He couldn't stop. He couldn't even speak anymore. He passed the phone to Adam, trying to show him what he wasn't able to explain.

"Ouch," he said, sliding over to sit beside the massive pile of pathetic that was Drew. "I'm… I'm really sorry bro, that sucks."

Neither of them said anything for a while, Drew because he was crying and Adam because apparently the whole situation was just so horrifyingly awkward that he had been stunned into silence. Eventually Drew calmed down enough to be able to breathe normally again.

"Maybe…" Drew said, wiping his face, "maybe I can go to her house. Try to fix things-"

"You're grounded."

"Well maybe _you_ could go to her house-"

"-Whoa, I am not getting involved, this is your mess."

"No, just to see how she's doing. She'll never know you were there because of me-"

"-I'm not friends with Alli, _of course_ she's going to know I'm there because of you."

"Sav!" Drew said, the desperation starting to creep up in his voice. "You're friends with Sav – go see him and while you're there you can see how Alli's doing!"

"You're delusional. It's over, Drew." Before adding for good measure. "Sorry."

He gave Drew a sheepish pat on the back. "And she'll be around at school. It's not like you'll never see her again."

"I don't want to go back to school," Drew muttered. "Everybody hates me."

"Hey, I've been there," Adam assured him. "So, you'll be the bad flavor of the week – then they'll move onto someone else. There's a scandal at _least_ once a week at that school!"

"No this is bad," Drew insisted, shaking his head. "You don't know what they're saying about me on FaceRange."

Adam rolled his eyes. "I _told_ you not to go on FaceRange."

"And I wouldn't have until you told me not to!" Drew took a breath, steeling himself for what he would have to say next. "They're all calling me… _Drewche_."

Adam barely stifled a laugh.

"It's not funny – that's the worst nickname in the world."

"Really? You hate it more than Bazooka butt?"

"It's like a billion times worse than Bazooka butt!"

"Man," said Adam, dejected. "I came up with that nickname."

"I just want to sit here forever," Drew said quietly.

"Well, the good thing is: you're grounded. So you can do that for a while."

"Great."

"Great," Adam said starting to get up. "I said to Eli I'd take the uniform over to show him how awful it is. Maybe we can make it disappear. Do you mind if I-"

"No, it's okay," Drew sighed, "you go."

"Okay." Adam said gently before leaving Drew in his basement refuge to brood.

He had really screwed up this time. Drew could feel his stomach sink like a stone. He had done a lot of stupid things, but he had never done anything _irredeemable_ before. Maybe he would be better off just living in the basement forever. It wasn't like he'd be damaging his grades by not showing up to class – they couldn't really get much worse! At least he had always had his popularity at school, now he didn't have that. He had nothing. No Alli, no friends, no credibility. Nothing.

But… he also had no mens rea!

Maybe it was all in his head. Maybe it wasn't everyone that hated him. K.C.! He hadn't tried to call K.C. all week! Granted K.C. spent most of his time in his own, weird, feeling-sorry-for-himself-because-of-some-weird-Jenna-drama world these days, but he'd surely not be too preoccupied to not talk to his friend.

He closed the blocked messaged from Alli and dialed K.C.'s number.

"_The number you are trying reach is currently unavailable. To leave a message press one."_

* * *

><p>I'm not exactly sure how this fic is going to work anymore to be honest. The end I have written for it has been completely derailed by the events of 13a and I'm not sure the tone and message is still going to work with the hindsight we all have. But I didn't want to be a Drewche and leave it hanging on a pre-Vegas cliff hanger, either. In all honestly, I don't think it's going to work anymore, but I'm going to go through all the notes and upcoming chapters and see if it's salvageable. If not, I WILL leave a update explaining how it was GOING to end and maybe throw up some of my favourite upcoming puns and bits on my Tumblr (Jay-Ell-Gee) because I am a narcissist who loves puns!<p>

This is also the first chapter I've not written as a teenager (I just turned 20 – what the hell!?) You can tell it's more grown up and mature because of phrases like "DeFloozy" and "Bazooka Butt."


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